


Til We Ain't Strangers Anymore

by WriteByNight



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bathing/Washing, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Coma, Comatose Stiles Stilinski, Denial of Feelings, Derek Comes Back, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Derek Has Feelings, Derek Leaves, Derek Leaves Beacon Hills, Derek Uses His Words, Derek and Stiles are Mates, Derek is a Failwolf, Doctor Who References, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Sex, Friends to Lovers, Full Shift Werewolves, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Hurt Stiles, Inspired by Music, Kingdom Hearts References, Knotting, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mates, Mating, Mating Bites, Mating Bond, Oral Sex, Pampering, Pining, References to Supernatural (TV), Reunited and It Feels So Good, Sexual Content, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Statutory Rape, Stiles is Not a Virgin, Stiles is a virgin, Top Derek Hale, Top Derek Hale/Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Triggers, Vomiting, Withdrawal, mentions of porn, not a songfic, pop culture references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-14 14:58:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 35,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4568820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriteByNight/pseuds/WriteByNight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles should've expected Derek to suddenly disappear since the werewolf was in the habit of taking off without notice. However, Derek always showed up when they needed him.</p><p>As the weeks pass by, Stiles is no longer confused and a little hurt. What started as heartache begins to get worse the longer Stiles goes without seeing Derek. Eventually, his body begins to shut down and his only hope seems to be Derek...but nobody can find him.</p><p>There's no cure for a broken heart. Except, maybe, the cause for the broken heart himself.</p><p> </p><p>- - -</p><p>Or the one where Derek takes off without warning and Stiles finds out he could be Derek's mate and the distance between Derek and Stiles, along with Derek's refusal to develop the bond, is slowly killing Stiles. Without Derek, Stiles will die, but no one knows where he is or how to contact him. And Stiles is barely keeping it together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What Hurts the Most

###  **What Hurts the Most**

This is set right after Season 4 ended, but before Season 5 began (holy God I am not loving Theo, but am hooked on adorable Liam “I-Fell-In-A-Hole” Dunbar). Anyway, this is the first fanfiction I've written in 5 years and the first Teen Wolf I've written ever. Usually I write pure smut, but I got this idea and already have 3 chapters down, so I figured I may as well post it and at least get feedback instead of letting it sit around in my hard drive til I die. This chapter was inspired by the song “What Hurts the Most” by Rascal Flatts. 

 

It was raining for the sixth time since Stiles found out Derek left town four weeks ago. Four weeks of unreturned phone calls, texts and emails. And still no word from Derek. Stiles had called Cora, but even she didn't know where her brother was, but promised to contact him if Derek showed up.

Stiles sighed and rolled over, pulling the sheets up to tuck them under his chin. He'd shamelessly cried a few times since he had found out Derek was gone, but that didn't stop the ache in his chest, the ball in his throat or the hot tears that pricked the corners of his eyes. He didn't have it in him to even care that he had cried over the stoic grump up and leaving without a word. Stiles had always been in touch with his emotions, confronting them head on and dealing with them as they popped up. However, he hadn't felt this abandoned since his mom died, and Derek leaving had reopened old wounds and left him feeling raw and vulnerable.

It'd be different, maybe, if he and Derek hadn't become friends. And maybe Stiles had flirted with him, but Derek never reacted negatively, just rolled his eyes and ignored him, but that's how Derek was with Stiles. Stiles said silly, stupid things and Derek just ignored his nerdy quips, dog jokes and pick up lines, for the most part. Sometimes he'd groan as if Stiles' humor was physically harmful to his being, but Stiles had caught the older male fighting a smile on several occasions. Regardless of everything that went down in the past, they got along well.

Stiles rubbed his eyes to get rid of the itchiness the unshed tears caused as he remembered the last time he saw Derek, running it over in his mind like a broken record, or a CD that keeps skipping, hoping to find any clues of Derek warning him that he'd be leaving Beacon Hills.

**~ ~ ~**

> “I'm sorry things didn't work out with Braeden.” Stiles said, flopping unceremoniously onto Derek's couch.
> 
> Derek grunted and nudged Stiles' socked feet off of his lap, not once glancing up from the book he was reading.
> 
> “No need to keep a brave face, dude. Just lay it on me. After years of lusting after Lydia and being turned down, I know all about heartbreak.”
> 
> Derek rolled his eyes before scowling at the page. “You're with Malia now, Stiles. Heartbreak is a thing of the past.” He turned the page, “And don't call me 'dude'.”
> 
> Stiles huffed out a laugh. “Are you kidding me? Malia and I aren't serious. We're not even exclusive.”
> 
> At this, Derek glanced over at Stiles before returning to his book, but Stiles could tell he was focusing on him, for the moment.
> 
> “I mean, sure, last year we were getting to know each other, but I told her I wanted something more meaningful than hooking up and making out.” Derek scoffed and Stiles playfully shot him a wounded look. “Ouch, Der, that hurts. Just because I'm a guy doesn't mean I don't want something substantial. Something real.”
> 
> Derek raised his eyebrows as he shut the book. Stiles avoided looking at him in favor of looking at the book he'd just set down. Derek hadn't even put a bookmark in it or dogeared a page (one of Stiles' biggest pet peeves). Did he always remember what page he was on or did he just skim the book until he caught up with where he was before? Maybe he'd get him a bookmark, one day, just to see if he used it or just had a really good memory...
> 
> Stiles yelped as the knuckle of his big toe cracked and sat up to rub the aching appendage as he scowled at his offender.
> 
> “You zoned out.”
> 
> “And you resorted to bodily harm?!”
> 
> The older male rolled his eyes again and stretched his arms, causing his shirt to ride up. Stiles glanced at the tanned, solid abs and dark happy trail leading down to Derek's jeans. Stiles licked his lips and sat back as Derek tugged his shirt down.
> 
> “What did you want before you injured me?”
> 
> “I asked you what you plan on doing now that you're not hooking up with Malia.”
> 
> Stiles shrugged. “I don't know. I guess what I was doing before. Filling out applications to colleges, researching supernatural creatures, maintaining my dad's diet, helping Liam and Malia with their control some more, maybe fix my jeep...”
> 
> “What about Malia?”
> 
> “We're still friends. I'm still gonna be her friend and help her study and control her shift, but other than that, I'm not going to pursue a relationship with her.”
> 
> “Lydia, then? Didn't you have a 10 year plan?”
> 
> Stiles laughed and nodded. “Yes, and it would've worked, too.”
> 
> Derek caught his eyes and smirked. “Would've? What changed?”
> 
> Stiles licked his lips and didn't miss how Derek's eyes darted to his mouth, watching the motion of his tongue quickly sweeping along his lips. “I've changed.”
> 
> “How?”
> 
> “Well, I'm pretty sure I'm bi and I'm also pretty sure that I'd like to explore my options with guys, too.” Derek's eyes widened and he opened his mouth, but Stiles hurried to say, “You've changed, too, huh?”
> 
> “What do you mean?” The older male asked guardedly.
> 
> “Well, you can turn into a wolf now! Completely!”
> 
> “Full shift.” Derek corrected. “Yeah, but that doesn't have anything to do with your sexuality.” He arched an eyebrow. “Unless you're way more corrupted and kinkier than I thought.”
> 
> Stiles gaped at the smirking man for a few seconds before flinging a leg out to kick him in the stomach. “Ew, no. Gross, dude. I mean, yes, I've looked up some kinky stuff, okay? But not, like, bestiality. Ugh.” He covered his blushing face with his hands and groaned. “You _finally_ make a joke, and it's totally pervy and disgusting.”
> 
> Derek smirked, looking very proud of himself. “I must be hanging out with you too much.”
> 
> Stiles groaned again and stood up. “Blah. Well, on that note, I'm gonna go.” he gathered up his laptop and bookbag, searching his pockets for his keys. “And if you need help controlling your shift, you can always stop by the preserve, where Scott and I will be teaching Werewolf 101.”
> 
> He lifted his hand in a wave as he walked toward the door, glancing back to see Derek nodding and returning to his book. Stiles would definitely be getting him a bookmark, as he watched the other male flip through the pages aimlessly.
> 
> “See you.”
> 
> “Bye.”

And then, when Stiles stopped by three days later to ask Derek if he'd mind if he crashed at the loft, he wasn't there. The loft was locked up, but Stiles had a key made, and let himself in. Derek's stuff was still here, but his fridge had been emptied, his closet and dressers were obviously missing many clothes and Derek's laptop was gone, and he never took it anywhere. There wasn't a note and nobody had known he was leaving or where he was. He was just gone.

**~ ~ ~**

Stiles doesn't think he had said anything to Derek that would make him leave, but maybe he was being a bit self-centered if he thought Derek leaving had anything to do with him. The werewolf could just be following Braeden or tracking down someone to help him adjust to becoming a full-shift werewolf. There were many reasons why Derek would've left Beacon Hills and it would be just like Derek to not tell anyone where he was going or what he was doing. They weren't his pack. His pack was gone.

Stiles froze as realization hit him. Was Derek going to rebuild his pack? Maybe with people more mature than Beacon Hills' tormented teens and rejects? Stiles tried to convince himself that the heaviness of his heart had more to do with heartburn from too many chili cheese fries than from Derek leaving Beacon Hills to rebuild his pack with people who weren't from Beacon Hills. With people who weren't Stiles.

**~ ~ ~**

“Hey Stiles, we haven't seen you around here much lately.” Parrish greeted Stiles as he entered the station.

Stiles nodded and lifted up the brown bag in his hand. “Oh, yeah. Sorry. Just wanted to give dad his lunch. He forgot it this morning.”

Parrish arched an eyebrow. “Do you think he may have forgotten it on purpose?”

The teen smiled sheepishly. “Maybe. I told him I made him pizza, but I don't think he thought I meant spinach, kale and artichoke pizza with ranch sauce made from Greek yogurt on a gluten-free crust.”

The young deputy wrinkled his nose and shook his head sympathetically. “Ah, well, I'm sure it tastes great.”

Stiles snickered. “It doesn't, but it's good for him and that's what really matters.” He started toward the door to his dad's office, frowning when he realized the blinds were drawn. He tried to open the door and discovered it was locked.

“Uh, Parrish? Why's my dad's office locked?”

“Ah, shit, Stiles. I forgot, he's on the phone with someone from the newspaper. They've been questioning him all morning about all the crazy things that have happened here recently and want a comment from your dad.”

Stiles winced sympathetically. He had known it would only be a matter of time before all the craziness attracted attention from humans, too. He just hoped no busybody reporters would show up, poking their noses where they didn't belong. They had enough to do protecting the town, innocent bystanders and their own asses. They didn't need stupid journalists popping up, trying to get a scoop and biting off more than they could chew.

“So, I meant to ask you, how're you and Malia doing?” Parrish asked as Stiles sat at one of the other deputies desks.

“Meh, fine, I guess. I haven't seen too much of her. She's been hanging around Lydia more, since Lydia's tutoring her so she doesn't have to attend summer school.”

Parrish nodded. “Yeah, I just wondered if you guys were taking a break. Your dad mentioned that she doesn't come over too often anymore.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes at Parrish. “Deputy, I hope you never try to become a detective because you're fishing and it's really obvious.”

The older male blushed lightly and threw a hand toward Stiles. “I can't help it that I'm naturally curious and your dad grumbles a lot. He's worried about you. He said you haven't been out of the house much since school ended.”

“Well, not that it's any of your business, but my friends are pretty busy. I mean, Scott's hanging with Kira and Lydia is tutoring Malia and Liam's trailing after Scott like a lost puppy and Lydia is also doing research with you and my jeep is on the fritz, so I don't really have reliable transportation anymore.”

“What about Derek? What's he up to?”

Stiles tensed and stood up. “No one knows. He's gone.”

“Gone? Where'd he go?”

“No one knows.”

“When is he coming back?”

“I have no clue.” Stiles felt his heart clench and he knew he had to get out of there. “Listen, can you just give my dad his lunch when he's done? I've got to head back home. Those college apps won't fill themselves out.”

“Oh, man, now your dad's going to blame me for ruining his lunch.”

Stiles felt his the corners of his lips twitch up into a smirk. “And I will blame you if you chicken out and get take out again. So man up, Parrish.”

“Your dad will put me on desk duty again!”

“Maybe he does that just so he can see your pretty face, Parrish.” Stiles plopped the brown bag down on the deputy's desk and winked at the flushed older male.

“Get out of here, you delinquent.”

“Oh, dude, you _have_ been spending too much time with my dad.”

“Out!”

“I'm going! Make sure he eats it, pretty boy!”

**~ ~ ~**

Stiles began to spend more and more time at Derek's loft. He sometimes slept on the couch and had even stocked the fridge and pantry with his favorite foods. He was sure Derek would disapprove of the impressive collection of Pop-Tarts Stiles has accumulated. And even less impressed that Stiles has also moved some of his clothes into a drawer in Derek's room.

He had even started writing in a journal, like the therapist had him do after his mother passed away. Stiles doesn't know why he equates Derek leaving on a level with his mother's death. Maybe it's because for the first time since then that he's felt abandoned by someone he cares about, but either way, writing helped ease the ache in his chest. It had also made it worse in some ways because the more he wrote, the more he realized that he may feel more for Derek than just a friend, comrade, and crush. People with crushes don't feel depressed when their crush leaves them, or maybe they do, but they don't feel like they've been gutted and left to bleed out. They might think they feel that way, sure, but then they move on. And Stiles? He couldn't move on. He had started sleeping with his pillow on Derek's couch, which escalated to sleeping with Derek's comforter from his bed, the faint, lingering scent of Derek was the only thing that could lull him to sleep most nights, otherwise he tired himself out crying. Some days it was a struggle to leave Derek's home, but managing his father's diet usually got him out of the loft at least four times a week.

He had rationalized it in his head. Obviously, the first place Derek would go when he returned was his loft, and Stiles would be there, waiting for him, to give him a piece of his mind.

However, the more time Stiles spent at the loft, the more he began to realize that maybe he isn't staying there, waiting for Derek to come back. He was there so he can feel close to Derek.

Stiles spilled his feelings to his journal and questioned everything. Maybe if he had been more tactful about Derek's recent break-up, Derek wouldn't have left. Maybe if he had been more understanding about Peter being locked up in Eichen House, he would still be here. However, there were so many “what-ifs” that Stiles had slowly started to lose his mind and the hole in his heart was just bleeding out sluggishly.

Stiles was the guy with the plan, the one who fixed things when they broke. iBut how could Stiles fix whatever went wrong when Derek skipped town without warning? What wasStiles suppose to do? Hunt him down? Move on?

Getting out of bed became Stiles' daily struggle and staying close to bits and pieces of Derek was easier than leaving the loft. He considered it a trade of sorts.

So Stiles stayed in the loft. He went through the motions, when he could manage his depression, cried and bled all of his emotions to his journal, and hoped Derek would walk through the door any second now.

And then another second passed, and he was let down all over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first thing I've written for Teen Wolf and the first fanfiction I've written in 5 years. Please be gentle and constructive with the criticism. Thank you all for reading!


	2. I Breathe In, I Breathe Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Chris Cagle's song, " _I Breathe In, I Breathe Out_ "

###  **I Breathe In, I Breathe Out**

Stiles cursed inwardly as his buggy rammed into someone else's. “I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attention.” He apologized, hoping he sounded genuine and not as irritated as he felt.

“It's fine, no harm done.” A familiar voice replied.

“Whoa, hey, Danny! What're you doing here? I thought you graduated early and booked it outta here!”

Danny smirked and moved his cart to the side to let a woman with three screaming children by. Stiles quickly copied his movements, sticking his tongue out at the child who was screaming the loudest, earning a glare from the woman.

“I did graduate early and I did go away to school, I'm on summer break from UCLA.”

Stiles whistled. “That's great, dude. I'm happy for you.”

“Thanks. It's amazing. I've joined an LGBT alliance on campus and I'm on the lacrosse team. I don't get to play with the guys, but maybe this semester I'll be able to. I've gotta head back to school for training soon.”

Stiles smiled and nodded, “Sounds like a blast.”

Danny returned the smile and gestured to old schoolmate. “So, how've things been here? Any new baddies? How's everyone doing?”

Stiles laughed lightly, “So far, no new baddies. Everyone is fine, mostly. Scott and Kira are together, Scott, uh, added someone else to, uh, the group.” Danny's eyebrows shot up. “Yeah, I know. This little shit named Liam. He's okay. Getting use to things, still, but he's alright. Uh...what else? Lydia's moved on with one of my dad's deputies. He's new and seems to like her, too. And we are pretty sure he's like us, most of us, I mean, too.” Danny's eyes widened. “Yeah, dude, you've missed a lot. Chris, Allison's dad, booked it outta town and took Isaac along with him, kinda became his foster dad.”

“What about the girl you found? Malia?”

“Actually, she and I had a thing for a bit, but we're just friends now. She's doing alright. Catching up in school and stuff. Still working on the whole wild girl thing, though.”

Danny nodded and caught Stiles' eye, and Stiles knew what was coming next. Danny was a guy who was into guys and very perceptive anyway, so of course he'd-

“And how's your cousin doing? How is...Miguel?”

Stiles frowned and tightened his grip on the buggy. “Actually, Derek left. We don't know where he is or what he's been up to.”

The tanned male's smile faltered. “Oh. Sorry. But...doesn't he do stuff like this? He leaves a lot, right?”

Stiles nodded. “I guess, but I thought he'd stick around now, but apparently not.” He swallowed thickly. “It was great running into you Danny, literally. But I've got milk and gotta get it to the fridge, so...”

Danny backed up and moved his cart away so Stiles could maneuver his a bit more easily. “No problem. We should all meet up before I go back to school. It's weird because I didn't really care for you or your friends before I left, but now, it's nice to see you guys.” He laughed. “And you guys are the only ones I can talk to about the crazy stuff.”

A ghost of a smile fluttered briefly across Stiles' lips. “I bet, and yeah, sounds good. You still have Lydia's number?” Danny nodded. “Alright, text her and let her know and I'm sure she'll set something up for us. Maybe you can meet Liam.”

“Sounds good. See ya, Stiles.”

“See ya.”

Stiles took long strides to get to the check out and took deep, even breaths. He was sure he missed some things on his list, but he'd pick them up later, maybe at 2 am when he couldn't sleep and felt like a part of his soul was dying. But he can't right now. He could run into someone else who could question him about Derek's whereabouts and he'd keep telling them the same thing. Derek's gone,no, Stiles doesn't know when or if he'll be back. Then they'd look at Stiles, like they're studying him, and he knew what they're thinking. 'Why isn't he joking around? Why does he look so awful? Has he been crying? Is he okay?' And Stiles couldn't say he's okay. He's so far from okay. He could only do what he's been doing. Take deep, even breaths, put one foot in front of the other and take it one day at a time until Derek shows up. Unless Stiles falls apart first.

~ ~ ~

“You know, Stiles, I can tell why you're upset.”

Stiles isn't sure how it happened, but he and Danny began hanging out. Stiles doesn't know when he stopped noticing things, but he had and he was just pulling through. He had a routine. Wake up, make up the couch (if he slept at his house, he doesn't make the bed), get dressed, eat breakfast, fill out college apps, research for any suspicious wolf sightings in North America and South America, make dinner, drop off his dad's lunch or dinner, if he's still on duty, and then head home to play video games or to the loft to read one of the many books Derek left behind.

He isn't sure when Danny slotted himself into his schedule. He just ends up sitting with him as they take turns playing Kingdom Hearts.

“Stiles!”

“What?”

“I know why you're upset.”

Stiles sighed and paused the game. “Okay.”

Danny lifted a brow at him. “Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

“So...you've just accepted it? You're not going to do anything about it?”

“What can I do, Danny? I am not a wolf. I can't shift and follow his trail until I hunt him down. I can't just track his GPS location because I'm pretty sure he lost or got rid of his cell phone and even if he hasn't, he doesn't have the location turned on, ever. Because I've checked and I get nothing.”

The other male nodded and smiled sympathetically. “Yeah, but you're talking about finding Derek. I'm talking about getting over him. Going out and meeting someone else.”

Stiles cocked his head and thought for a moment. Could he do that? Just go out and hook up with someone? Just a fling. He had been up for it before, with no feelings attached, but now?

He shook his head, “No, I don't want to.”

Danny huffed impatiently. “Stiles, you can't sit around and keep moping. He may never come back. And on the tiniest chance he does come back, what is going to happen? He didn't feel anything for you before he left and he's not going to come back gay and in love with you.”

Stiles threw Danny a look. “I know that, asshole. But I don't care. I don't care if I'm being pathetic and stupid. And I know he won't come back and in love with me, but I can't be with someone else right now, okay?”

“Why not? It's not a big deal, Stiles. Especially if whoever you're with understands its just a fling. And maybe you'll meet someone you like just as much as you like him. You're bi! There's plenty of options for you! You just have to get out there and-”

“Danny, I appreciate what you're trying to do and I get what you're saying, but I'm still getting use to the idea that he may not come back. Once I accept that, I may be able to go out and meet people or whatever, but until then, I'm just gonna keep doing what I'm doing.”

The other male rolled his eyes. “What? Sit here playing video games and looking for any hint of a wolf sighting where wolves have no point of being?”

“No. I'm gonna keep taking it one day at a time. I'll get over it. Eventually.”

Danny sighed, but accepted the controller as Stiles handed it over, not batting an eye as Stiles pulled out a journal and began to scribble away, playing with the pen cap in between his lips with his tongue. He hoped everything worked out in the end; Stiles looked like hell and was slowly getting worse everytime Danny saw him.

**~ ~ ~**

“Dr. Deaton's office, Scott speaking.”

“Hey, buddy, can you hand the phone to Deaton? I've, uh, got a question for him.”

“Are you researching supernaturals again, Stiles?”

“I never stopped researching, Scotty.”

Stiles smiled as Scott's breathy laugh crackled through his speaker. “Yeah, okay. One sec.”

Stiles heart jumped as he heard Scott talking to Deaton, but can't make out what they're saying. It gave him a moment to gather his thoughts, though. If what he's just found out is true, well, Stiles is gonna have a panic attack and a meltdown in one go. Maybe he should have 911 on stand-by, just in case...

“What do you want, Stiles? I'm preparing for a very delicate procedure here.”

“Sorry, just a quick question. Dofullshiftwerewolveshavemates?”

“What?”

Stiles took a deep breath and tried to calm his racing heart. “Do full shift werewolves have mates?”

Deaton was silent for a few moments, which only increased Stiles' anxiety. What if Deaton doesn't know the answer? This kind of thing wouldn't be in the bestiary, would it? Maybe it is. He'd have to ask Lydia if he could borrow it sometime...

“I've only heard rumors about such a thing occurring, Stiles. Why?”

“No reason, I just wondered, thank you. Good luck with that procedure.” Stiles ended the call before he could freak out.

“They were only rumors,” he whispered to himself, trying to calm his rushing blood and erratic heart. “It's probably not even a thing. You're just doing that thing when you look up something and you think you have that disease or illness, but you really don't. It's not real. If it were true...he wouldn't have left.” Stiles leaned against the wall and slumped to the floor, flexing his fingers into fists and pressing them against his eyes as if he could shove the tears back physically.

“If mates were possible, he'd feel this way, too. He wouldn't have left.” He whimpered, choking on a sob. “Derek...God, Derek. There's no way you felt like this and left. Please.” He'd started begging and pleading, but doesn't know if he's begging for Derek to come back, or to feel this level of pain, abandonment and longing or all of the above, but he stayed there, sobbing and pleading until he fell asleep, curled in on himself against the concrete wall of Derek's loft, aching for the werewolf to walk through the door and take his pain away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all of you lovely readers and those awesome commentors, those who left kudos and bookmarked this story. I can't even begin to tell you how much I appreciate your feedback and encouragement with this story and I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
> 
> Also, holy crap, guys, I've already got Chapter 5 almost finished and it's going to be a long one. It's already two pages longer than the longest chapter so far (I forget which one that is) and it looks like I'll be finished with this little fic sooner rather than later. If you like my writing and would like to read more, let me know and maybe I'll be inspired to do more. Anyway, at this rate, this fic should be completed by next Saturday, USA time. Sorry for the long note and thanks for your patience!


	3. Not A Day Goes By

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNING!**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> This is the chapter that consists of kinda detailed vomiting, discussions of bowel movement and illness in general. If that squicks you or you have a weak stomach, I'd suggest treading lightly and just skimming this chapter to get the gist of it!
> 
> This chapter was inspired by Lonestar's song, " _Not A Day Goes By_ "

**Not A Day Goes By**

“Hey, Scotty, it's me, I just wanted to let you know I don't feel well and I'm just gonna try and sleep whatever this is off. Uh, have fun tonight and tell them I said hi. Later, buddy.” Stiles ended the call and shut off the screen.

He had definitely caught a bug or something. He isn't sure if its a flu or fever, but he had consumed nothing but orange juice, ginger ale, water, Saltines and dry, unbuttered toast for a few days now. Actually, almost a week. Stiles was throwing up every couple of hours, had diarrhea, was constipated and then his bowels just gave up and the cramps were awful. He'd taken fever reducers that claimed to relieve muscle aches, cramps and minor headaches, but thus far, he was still feeling shitty. Ha, ha. At least his sense of humor was still in tact.

Stiles had moved into Derek's room. The couch was too far from the bathroom and he always woke up sore and at least in Derek's bed he had room to move around and it's much closer to the bathroom. He had a trash can by the bed, just in case the situation became dire.

His dad had stopped by a couple times. He bought Stiles' story that Derek wanted him to look after the loft while he was gone, he even bought the lie that Derek's wolf wouldn't be happy if he came home and it didn't smell like pack, so his dad hadn't argued it much, so long as Stiles promised to come by and have dinner every now and then. He was sure his dad thought that the little bit of independence is teaching him some very important life lessons he couldn't learn in school, and he's getting a little taste of what college feels like, being independent and responsible, that is.

Mostly, Stiles had began to realize that being sick and alone really sucked and he just wanted it to end. None of his friends could even sympathize with him because they're all freaking supernatural creatures that don't know how awful and horrible it feels to have your body betray you like this. Stiles was the one obsessed with superheroes, supernatural creatures and impossibilities of the universe and he is the one who's still human. By choice, but still. Sure, he could've accepted the bite from Peter, but he saw what Scott went through. He knew better than to take him up on that. Plus, hello? Peter as his alpha? Thanks, but no thanks.

Stiles shook as his teeth chattered and sweat beaded down his face. Honestly, how is it possible to feel like this level of shit and still be alive? Seriously, when he recovers he will never take being healthy for granted again. He scoffed weakly because he knew he'd be grateful for maybe a day and a half and then go back to taking it for granted. One day he'd be grateful for his health. When he's 80 and has nothing better to do than reminiscence the 90's and spit insults at youth as they ride by on their hoverboards. There better be hoverboards by the time he's 80.

What Stiles couldn't figure out was why he still can't get Derek out of his head. He had thought for sure there was no way even his fever-addled brain could muster up the neurons to fire out nerves aching for the stupid werewolf, but lo-and-behold, he had managed it. It must've been a side effect of his ADHD. Or his fever. Or maybe some disastrous combo of both that will inevitably lead to his untimely demise. Was it possible to miss someone so much that your body gave up? Is that how that saying “died of a broken heart” came to be?

It would've been so much easier if he could just shut his brain off and get some sleep, but it's impossible. He was too cold, too hot, too sweaty, too sticky, the cramps were a bitch and he started burping acid every 20 minutes. Stiles supposed it's his body's way of saying “you're gonna blow!”. He would take a shower, but he was too weak to stand and he wasn't risking falling asleep in the bath again, because before he did that, he was only overheated, constipated and puking. After he fell asleep in the bath he began to have chills and for the love of all things holy, what is that pounding?

He groaned and feebly fumbled for his phone and lowered the volume and turned off vibrate. His heart briefly somersaulted in his chest when he saw he had a call, but was letdown when the “De” he glanced at was actually “Deaton”.

“'lo?” He slurred before burping out acid again.

“Stiles, Scott told me you were ill, so I'll keep this quick.”

“You're not a people doctor.” He responded sluggishly, wondering what kind of doctor Deaton is again. “You're a vegan.” He informed the man, proud he managed that.

“Veterinarian, yes.” Deaton sighed, “Stiles, I called to tell you that I did some asking around to my contacts and found out a bit more about werewolf mates.”

“That's nice. What'd you find?” He hoped the Emissary would tell him quickly. Stiles was either about to puke or shit himself or both soon and he'd rather not do it while on the phone. He rolled off the bed and landed on his hands and knees and began crawling to the en suite bathroom across the room. Halfway across the room, he remembered to put his phone on speaker so he could use his hands to crawl.

“-hy it happens, but its entirely possible. Some even think that werewolves become full-shift werewolves because they've found the best biological match possible and their wolf wants to make its feelings known.”

“Oh. Okay.” Stiles set his phone on the counter by the sink and sat down on the toilet and pulled the trashcan in between his legs, prepared for the worst.

“Stiles, what were you researching that brought this up?”

“Derek's a full-shift werewolf now.”

“I know, Scott told me.” Deaton sighed. “Is that what inspired this?”

“Kinda.” Stiles heaved and threw up, so quickly that he's gasping for breath and briefly choked on his own vomit and he panics for a moment, now that he can't breathe and vomit clogs his nasal passages.

“Stiles?!” He could hear Deaton's voice rising in alarm over his own choking and coughing, but couldn't do anything to answer.

His eyes teared up and he blindly grabbed for the toilet paper to blow his nose and unclog it to get some oxygen into his body. He managed to clear it enough to finish puking without choking and crouched over the trash can, inhaling deeply and slowly becoming more nauseated by the smell of his own puke.

“Ugh.” The human managed, using toilet paper to clean around his mouth and nose.

“Stiles, what are your symptoms?” Deaton demanded.

“Fever.” He raspsed, slowly rising from the toilet and shuffled to the sink. He grabbed his toothbrush, wet it and put some toothpaste on it and began to scrub the taste of vomit from his mouth.

“What else, Stiles? You sound worse than any typical fever.”

Stiles spat the out the foam and gurgled water before rambling his list of maladies to Deaton as he crawled back to Derek's bed. He could no longer smell the man's scent on the sheets. Everything smelled like himself, so he couldn't smell anything, really. But it sometimes burned his nose and made him want to cry. It didn't feel right and he wanted to know when this pain will end. He was gonna beg Scott for the bite soon, if it meant he didn't have to feel like this anymore. And if his body resisted the bite, well, good, then he wouldn't feel anything at all.

“STILES!”

“Wha?”

“Stiles, I think I know what's wrong with you and it's nothing as simple as a fever.”

“'s helpful. You're a veteran. Not a people doctor.” The words are garbled and barely make sense to Stiles, but he's not really focusing. His mind was already wandering, thinking that if he gets better, he'd switch his medication to something a bit more helpful than Adderall. Concerta or Daytrana maybe.

“Stiles, where are you?”

“Loft.”

“Derek's loft?”

“Yeah.”

“Why are you there, Stiles?”

“I dunno...just wanna be close.”

“To what?”

“Derek.” Stiles is pretty sure he whimpered the werewolf's name, but he was too far gone and exhausted to care.

Deaton mumbled something Stiles couldn't make out, but he wasn't listening anymore, he'd already began drifting off to sleep. He just needed some rest before his organs tried to make a break for it again.

**~ ~ ~**

“How could you not have noticed, Scott?” Deaton sounded disappointed and exasperated, which Stiles is use to having that tone directed at him, but never Scott. _What is going on?_

“He seemed fine! He smelled off and depressed, but I thought it was cause it's going to be our senior year and he and Malia ended it and he's filling out college apps. I didn't know it was killing him.” Okay, Scott sounded like Stiles right now, and seriously, when did Scott start talking to Deaton about him behind his back? That's a bro code no-no, Scotty. Bad, Scotty.

“Could the signs have been any clearer?”

“Signs for what? I don't know what this is about.”

“Where is Derek, Scott?”

“I have no clue. He just texted me and told me he was going away and won't be back until his wolf settled. He said it would just cause problems if he stayed.”

“Did he give you a number or anything to contact in case something happened?”

“No. He said his wolf thought of Beacon Hills as home and if something happened here, he'd feel it and come back. But we've been fine and it's okay. I don't think he'll be back for awhile. But what does this have to do with Stiles? What's wrong with him?”

“Nothing is fine and okay about this situation, Scott. Derek should be here. If I'm correct, he should feel this.” Deaton's voice sounded far from reassuring. He sounded worried and if Deaton was worried, then things had to be bad. Was Stiles about to die? He didn't want to die, not really. He'd take the bite rather than die.

“Feel _what_? We're not under attack!”

“Not all attacks are physical, Scott.”

“What's that mean? Stiles is right, you're so cryptic and unhelpful. How can we help Stiles? He needs to be in the hospital!”

“He'll die there, too, Scott.”

“What can we do, then?! Sit around and wait for him to die?” Scott sounded frantic now and if Stiles could move, he was sure he'd try to cover his ears, but his body felt like he'd been buried under sand and trying to move made him feel hot and stabbing pain all over.

“We can only wait and hope Derek shows up before that happens.”

“What can Derek do? He's not a doctor!”

“Scott, trust me. Derek's the only one who could possibly help Stiles now. I've got a few herbs that may help reduce his fever and give him a bit more time, but Derek is the only one who can cure him.”

“Why don't you just tell me what's wrong with him?” Scott sounded so broken and it was so unlike him, it hurt Stiles to hear Scott sound so upset and help;ess. He tried to move and comfort his friend, but he couldn't.

He felt like he was trapped inside his own body. So long as he stayed still he didn't feel any pain, but if he tried to move, it was agony. Yet he kept trying. He wasn't going to die this way, not if he could help it. But still...he wished Derek would get here soon, maybe then he would feel better.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and reviewing! I really appreciate your feedback and it helps me become a better writer!
> 
> If I manage to finish the last chapter today, this will not only be the first fic I've ever finished, but also the first fic I've been able to churn out in less than a week. Whoo! Level up!


	4. Austin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the hits, kudos, bookmarks and reviews! I really appreciate it and we are officially past the halfway point! This fic will be over soon and I'd like to know your opinion on my writing, please. If you'd be interested in reading more from me, maybe.
> 
> This chapter was inspired by Blake Shelton's song " _Austin_ "

###  **Austin**

Stiles felt like he was drowning in pain. He barely stopped fighting and it must be showing because he heard Deaton tell Scott that he was fighting it off remarkably well. But Stiles kept believing he'd die anyway, if Derek didn't show up soon. This was pure and utter hell. He knew exactly how Percy and Annabeth felt in the depths of Tartarus.

Scott had become desperate. He rarely left Stiles' side and Stiles felt like he was a fly on the wall. He could usually hear everything that happened, and when he stopped fighting to rest a bit, it all became a buzzing in his mind. The moment he began to fight, though, he could hear Scott and Deaton, sometimes his dad and the rest of the pack made an appearance, but it was mostly Scott and Deaton.

Once, he heard Scott changing his voicemail message, “Hey, this is Stiles, if this is Derek, come back, we need you.” and his own voicemail message became the same, only with his name. Deaton let Scott use his phone (cause he could actually afford to call another country) to call Cora in South America and she told him that if heard from her brother, she'd pass along the message. She asked if it was anything a Hale could help with and Scott had excitedly asked Deaton, only to dejectedly relay that it had to be Derek.

Stiles wondered if he was dreaming or already dead. For months he'd wanted Derek. Had called for him in the night, left messages, written emails and poured his heart and soul into his journal, detailing what he would say and do if he could talk to him again. He knew he would come back, since he hadn't shut off the water, gas or electric in the loft, but he wanted him back sooner rather than later. And now? Now would be the best time for Derek to show up.

“If I bite him, will it make him live?”

Deaton didn't answer Scott right away and Stiles wondered if he even knew the answer to that question. He wouldn't mind the bite. Scott was a good alpha and Stiles would be a great beta.

“I'm not sure. However, he seems to be improving slowly and I think biting him now would just give his body something else to fight off. But...” he paused, mulling over his words. “If he doesn't improve or gets drastically worse, the bite will be a last ditch effort.”

Scott swore and a loud thud echoed in Stiles' head.

“I'm fine, I'm already healing.” Scott's voice cracked. “I just don't know if I can sit here for much longer, watching him die and I can't do anything to help.”

“I'm sure your support is enough to keep him going. If there's a chance he can hear us, I'm sure he appreciates all that you've done so far and will continue to do.”

Scott was quiet for a moment. “Stiles, if you can hear us, I hope you know that I'm not leaving your side, buddy. Bros forever.”

' _And ever_.' Stiles thought, before resting from fighting for so long.

**~ ~ ~**

“ _This is Stiles. If this is Derek, we need you here, it's life or death._ ”

**~ ~ ~**

Stiles could fight a little more now, the aches and hot needles were dulled, and if he could just get the thudding in his head to go away, well, that'd be great.

He heard a chirp and realized it was his phone, alerting him he had a new message. He couldn't even muster up the energy to twitch a finger, let alone check his phone. He hoped it wasn't too important. Maybe a college was calling to say he'd been accepted! ...Although he thought they sent letters in the mail. Manila envelopes meant you were in. A regular envelope...well, that's what back-ups were for, after all.

“Shit.” He heard Scott and Stiles fought against the unbearable pressure pushing against him, trying to tell his friend he'd missed a call.

“Oh, holy fuck. Thank God.”

Okay, maybe colleges did call nowadays. After all, this is the 21st century...

“Derek! Thank God. Oh my God. Derek, you need to come back. Stiles is dying.”

Stiles stopped fighting for just a second and he knew his heart stopped for just a beat right along with him. He fought harder now. Derek! He had to wait for Derek. Apparently, Deaton thought Derek was the cure to ail all ills and he would be better! Who knew Sourwolf would be his savior?

“What? What's happened to him?” Stiles strained to hear, even though he knew it was hopeless unless Scott turned it on speakerphone. “Can you bring him here? I can send you the address, it's life or death.”

Scott was quiet for awhile and then seemed a lot colder, “Well if you bring him here and he still doesn't want it, I'll kill him myself, but since he's unable to speak for himself and I'm the Alpha, you have to bring him here, end of discussion. You have until tomorrow night.”

Stiles' heart sank. Derek didn't want to save him? After all Stiles had done? He'd researched and helped the pack so many times. Volunteered to partake in so many dangerous events and since actually getting to know the werewolf, Stiles didn't challenge him the way he use to. He was Derek's friend, or so he thought. How could Derek condemn him to die? What had Stiles done to deserve this from him? Derek was still by side even when he had been a vessel for the Nogitsune, had been against Chris taking him down like a hunter would. He had wanted to save Stiles then. What had happened to change his mind?

Fighting was too much right now. What was the point in fighting if he wouldn't ever recover? Maybe it was best to give in and just accept death. He couldn't save himself, he needed Derek and the stupid werewolf didn't feel like being a knight in shining armor, then Stiles didn't need to be saved, he could choose his demise and bowing out was a whole lot easier than waiting around and fighting for nothing.

Stiles hoped Scott didn't kill anyone, though. His friend did not need anyone else's blood on his hands. Stiles was the killer here, and he hoped Scott wouldn't sink to that status.

**~ ~ ~**

“Well, you showed up earlier than I expected.”

“Only a fool would challenge a true alpha.” A new voice drifted into Stiles' conscious, but he barely noticed. He was hanging by a thread here and was hoping Scotty would give in and bite him soon. If not, he hoped Scott knew he could have his Xbox and his Star Wars DVDs. He hadn't met any ghosts yet, but if it were possible, he'd come back and haunt Scott until he watched them all.

“Good. Where's Derek?”

Goody boy, Scotty. Always asking the important questions.

“He is in the car. I couldn't carry him by myself.”

Stiles doesn't blame the guy. Derek's a big dude, all muscle. Stiles just isn't sure that Scott can manage carrying him either...wait, why does Derek even need to be carried? Can't they just wake him up? Or did the dude knock Derek out just to drag him here? Was he _that_ against saving Stiles' life?

“He can't walk?”

“Not in his current state, no. He looks worse than your friend there.”

Okay, this dude is either more blind than Deucalion or completely insane. In no semblance of reality would Derek _ever_ look worse than Stiles, okay? The universe just does not compute that and the whole facet of reality would implode and the Doctor will have to come and make Big Bang 3...

It's silent in the room, so Scott and the other guy must have left. Stiles wonders who he is and why Derek was with him. He doesn't sound particularly nice, his voice was kind of simpering when he fed Scott the line about going against a true alpha and completely void of emotion when he discussed Derek looking worse than Stiles. And if Derek does look worse than Stiles, how is he going to help him? Does he even want to help him?

He could faintly hear shuffling and quite a bit of puffing, but it wasn't Scott. Stiles would know, he'd seen Scott through enough asthma attacks to know his best friend's breathing. He wonders if anyone else can recognize their friend by their breath. Probably not, cause that was weird, but he and Scott were on the market of weird.

“Get him to the bed. They need to be touching if you want to save them.” The unknown person wheezed.

“What? Why?” Scott sounded unaffected by Derek's weight, or at least, way less affected than the other man.

Stiles couldn't really feel the mattress dip as weight was added to it, but he did feel something brush his skin for the first time since he had entered this weird internal space. He had never felt Deaton applying his herbs, or Scott washing his face or his dad pressing long, lingering kisses to his forehead. But that faint whisper of contact when the bed dipped? _That_ he felt.

“Take off their shirts and put them closer together, so they're touching.”

Oh my God. Was Derek still unconscious? Why the hell did this sound like something a director of a porn would say? Not that Stiles wouldn't be down for some Derek porn, but isn't it somnophilia if neither of them are conscious? Not that he was into that, okay? He was just a curious guy and was vaguely interested in weird sex acts. But he was not down for non-consensual somnophilia here!

“Why?” Scott sounded wary and a little creeped out.

“If they're going through withdrawal, they'll need skin to skin contact to improve their health. This sort of thing is very rare and it's the reason Derek came to me in the first place. I tried telling him there was nothing I could do and there was no need to deny his wolf, that it was biology and there was nothing to worry about, but he considered it a burden and didn't want to go through with it.”

“Go through what?”

Stiles knew the second both he and Derek were shirtless because he felt tingles erupt throughout his upper body. He could _feel_ his upper body.

“The mating.”

“What?!”

“Derek and your friend. They're mates. It's incredibly rare and I've only heard tales about them, but as far as I know, there's no way to break the bond. Although, I suppose, death counts. Which is why Derek's been in limbo for a couple of weeks. I only called you to alert you that he was dying.”

“Why didn't you call sooner?” Scott sounded angry, furious even and if Stiles didn't feel so peaceful, he may have said a little prayer for the other dude.

“Derek didn't wish to go on with his life. However, as his alpha, you have a right to know.”

“Will you stop calling me Derek's alpha? As far as I know, Derek isn't part of my pack. I didn't bite him.”

“That hardly matters, under the circumstances. The fact Derek felt the need to tell you he would be leaving was reason enough to believe he considered you his alpha. He deferred to you. If you had told him no, he would've had to stay. Against his wishes, but he would have. He obviously respects you.”

Scott laughed tiredly. “No, he doesn't. He lives by his own rules. He gave me a heads up because that meant that if any monsters came our way, I'd be on my own with the pack.”

“Perhaps he wishes to be part of your pack.”

Scott was quiet for so long, Stiles thought he wasn't going to respond at all, but he was surprised to hear the level of intensity in his voice. “If Derek wanted to be part of my pack, he wouldn't have left Stiles like this. I don't understand the mates thing. I don't understand if Derek ever told Stiles what had happened or if Stiles figured it out. Deaton told me it was between them and didn't tell me what was happening to Stiles, but if Derek abandoning my friend results in his death, well, he's going to answer to me whether he wants to or not.”

The other dude seemed dismissive of Scott's little speech. “He's hardly in any position to do anything to your friend now. And if Derek dies, the mateship doesn't. Your friend - Stiles, was it? - will feel like a piece of him is missing every moment of every day of his life. Perhaps if they had a loving mateship, even if it was a brief mateship, Stiles could possibly live a very long time with that loss. But abandonment followed by death of a mate? He'd die of a broken heart.” There was a slight pause. “However, there's not much more we can do for them now. Give them liquids to keep their energy up and make sure they continue to touch. As much skin on skin contact as possible and they should recover fairly quickly.”

“Where are you going?”

“I'm going to visit your Emissary. We have some catching up to do.”

Scott did as he was told and Stiles almost felt the water sliding down his throat. Just a whisper of a sensation, but he savored the ability to feel. Being numb was not a good experience and he wanted to get well quickly, but first, he needed more rest.

**~ ~ ~**

When Stiles woke up, he could actually open his eyes. He blinked blearily. The room was too bright and he automatically closed his eyes, squeezing them shut and letting out an involuntary groan.

“Stiles?”

Stiles' heart skipped a beat.

“I can tell you're awake.”

“Nu-uh.” Whoa, hello, voice. Damn, it felt good to communicate, even if it sounded like he'd been walking around the desert without water while chain-smoking cigarettes non-stop.

“Elevated heart rate, breathing pattern and your heart stuttered. That doesn't happen during REM sleep, which you were experiencing a few minutes ago.”

“Stupid werewolf.”

“You wound me.”

“No, _you_ wound me.” Stiles couldn't stop the childish statement.

There was a deep sigh from the disgruntled werewolf next to him and he knew they were going to have a talk. A discussion Stiles maybe didn't want to have, okay? Is it too much to ask for to just cuddle the alpha he'd been desperately pining for for months now?

“Stiles, we need to talk.”

He groaned. Yep. Here it comes. ' _The Talk_ '.

“Fine,” Stiles moved to sit up, but the second he moved away from Derek it felt like hot knives were stabbing him all over his body. Even his _tongue_ hurt. He let out a pained yelp which gave way to a startled cry and curled in on himself for protection. He felt cool, rough hands grip his upper arm and under his knees and he was manhandled so he was in Derek's lap, curled up against the werewolf's musuclar chest.

“Don't move away yet, Stiles. You may feel better, but we've got at least another 12 or more hours sitting like this. My wolf has been too far away from you for too long and both of us paid the price. I had no idea it would do this level of damage to you.”

Stiles felt better the second he was cuddled up with Derek, but decided to take his word for it. Better to sit in Derek's lap and embrace each other than get stabbed by invisible knives.

“Would you still have left if you had known this would happen to me?” Stiles couldn't help but ask. He deserved to know. After what he'd been through, he deserved a lot of things. Explanations, ice cream, maybe even a kiss.

“No, but Stiles, I'm a slave to my biology because I'm a werewolf, I didn't think it'd affect you.”

Stiles shook his head and dug his heel into the outside of Derek's thigh. “I want food and something to drink before we talk. I'm starving, sleepy and you're comfortable. Order room service.”

He didn't need to look at Derek to know the older male was rolling his eyes. “We're not at a hotel, Stiles, we're at my loft. Which smells strongly of you. Well, and Deaton, your dad, Scott and the rest of the pack, but mostly you. Care to explain?”

Stiles groaned. “I will if you carry me downstairs so I can get something to eat. Or I could try walking, I guess? Would it be okay if we just held hands or do I need to be touching you a lot so I don't feel like I'm being shanked to death?”

Derek raised an eyebrow as he stood up with Stiles in his arms. “You feel that level of pain, still?”

Stiles nodded and Derek scowled. “We'll be like this for longer than I thought, then. I thought your pain had eased. You slept so peacefully.”

The younger male shook his head. “Yeah, cause you were next to me. That's the best sleep I've had in months. I can't remember a more restful sleep. Hell, I think the last time I slept so peacefully was before I was possessed by the Nogistune.”

Derek chose not to reply and instead carefully made his way down the spiraling stairs. Stiles wrapped his arms around his neck and held on tightly.

“I'm not going to drop you.” Derek huffed, sounding mildly offended, as they reached the space that served as the living room.

“I don't care. I've fallen down plenty of stairs in my life, but that was due to my own clumsiness and in part because gravity's a bitch, not because someone dropped me.”

“I wouldn't drop you.”

“No, you'd only leave me and never look back.”

Derek stopped once they reached the kitchen and set Stiles down, but kept his hand curled around Stiles' bicep. “Breakfast first, then we'll talk.”

Stiles filled himself a glass of water and thirstily guzzled it down before refilling it and walking toward the pantry, Derek following silently after him, making sure to keep skin-to-skin contact.

“Fine. What kind of Pop-Tart do you want? I've got brown cinnamon sugar, strawberry, wildberry, hot fudge sundae, strawberry milkshake...”

Derek settled on brown cinnamon sugar, a classic and favorite of Stiles', and he put Derek's in the toaster first, anticipation settling and expanding like a beach ball in his stomach. This talk couldn't end well and Stiles knew he'd better enjoy being close to Derek while he could because this would all be over soon.


	5. I Hold On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if I'll meet my Saturday deadline because I've got a party that day and I've got 21 pages written and still not close to ending the chapter, so I may be splitting it up into two chapters. It's super long and I'm not even done. Ugh.
> 
> Thanks for all of your support, feedback, bookmarks and kudos. I really appreciate it!
> 
> This chapter was inspired by the song " **I Hold On** " by Dierks Bentley.

###  **I Hold On**

Once both males had finished their Pop-Tarts, Derek hugged Stiles against his side and led him to the couch. He raised an eyebrow at the sheets folded at the end of the couch.

“I didn't sleep in your bed the whole time.” Stiles began nervously, slowly inching away from the older male, but keeping his hand on Derek's forearm. “I started off on the couch, but when the fever hit, I had to get to your bed. It was the only thing that smelled like you, and it was way comfier and closer to the bathroom.”

“You could smell me?” Derek asked as he sat on the couch and pulled Stiles onto his lap.

Stiles shifted awkwardly, accidentally elbowing Derek in the side in the process and bonking his head on the man's jaw. His head hurt more than Derek did, he was sure. It was weird being able to feel after being numb for so long. He wondered if he would quickly take advantage of not dying. Actually, he was getting ahead of himself. Derek was helping him now, so they could talk, but would Derek really rather die than be mated to Stiles? Sure, Stiles wasn't the best looking guy around, but he still turned heads, sometimes. He was turned down more often than not, but that didn't mean that some people weren't interested in him. Those people weren't Derek, though.

“Yeah. I mean, I have a pretty good sense of smell. Nowhere near a werewolf's, I guess, but yeah, I can smell you.”

“What do I smell like?” Derek asked after a moment of hesitation; like he couldn't refrain from knowing the answer.

Stiles couldn't help but let a small smile cross his lips. “I couldn't tell at first, but after showering in your bathroom, I can tell. You don't use many scented products, so mostly like coconut and milk soap, shower fresh shampoo and then, just something that's you. I, eh, guess it'd be natural musk.”

Derek nodded thoughtfully. “You usually smell like a myriad of things. You take on so many scents because you're always around people. I can tell when you've been to the station because you smell strongly of printer ink and coffee and faintly of gun powder, and when you visit Melissa or Deaton you smell like medicine and cleaning fluid. When you've been at home for a weekend, you smell of pheromones.” He nudged Stiles' shoulder with his chin, a small smirk gracing his lips. “Like you managed to get a lot of alone time.”

Stiles blushed and halfheartedly smacked Derek's shoulder with the back of his hand. “Shut up. I'm a developing guy and I've got needs.” 

The older male rolled his eyes, but didn't look exasperated like he usually did when Stiles' sexual activities were brought up. “You're getting me off topic.”

“Maybe I don't want to be on topic.” Stiles whispered, all the lighthearted banter gone and the shine in his whiskey colored eyes dulled. “Let's just get this over with. Rip off the proverbial band-aid, as it were.”

Derek sighed. “Stiles, I didn't do this to hurt you. If I had my choice, it wouldn't be you at all, okay?”

Stiles could physically feel his heart plummet into his stomach and his eyes instantly welled up with tears as a ball formed in his throat. “I get that, Derek, okay? But condemning me to death is a little harsh.”

“I had no idea that it would affect you, Stiles. I thought it was something only I could feel, since I'm the werewolf with the fucked up biology and you're human. It never even crossed my mind that you would be affected by the bond, since we hadn't acted on it and you're human. There is nothing inside of you that would ache for a mate or would even want one. I thought you would be perfectly fine.”

“That doesn't make it okay, Derek! Even if it hadn't affected me, how could you _do_ that to me? I thought we were friends. I came by and you were just gone. Nobody knew where you were or when or _if_ you'd be back. I left messages, texts, emails...hell, if I had any old addresses, I would've sent you a fucking letter! I called Cora every few days, just in case you had contacted her and she forgot to call me. I Googled strange wolf sightings for hours, hoping one would pop up about a feral, out of control black wolf in some city. I was starting to think maybe you were dead.”

Derek shifted underneath him and Stiles moved off his lap and rested his bare shoulder against Derek's. The older male glanced at Stiles and Stiles held his gaze, but he couldn't read the werewolf's face. Derek was as emotionally blank as ever.

“Stiles, don't get upset, but I'm positive that's the bond talking. Even before you realized it was a bond, it would've been twisting your thoughts and swaying me in your favor slowly, every single day. So even though you think that you'd be the same if the bond left you unaffected, the point stands that you were... _are_ affected, and that won't change.”

The younger male shook his head jerkily. “No way. I wasn't saying that as if I were in love with you, Derek. I meant that from a friend's perspective. My friend went missing. Not my crush, my would-be lover or mate. My _friend_. I stopped by a few days after you left and found you were gone. You cleaned out the food and most of your clothes, so I realized you'd be gone for awhile and it hurt me, but it wasn't crushing me, yet. Not right away. I think that's when the bond took hold. Right after I realized you'd left me. Before that, I hadn't known you were gone and didn't really miss you, just wanted to hang out and maybe convince you to get a TV in here.”

“Even if you only thought of me as a friend then, Stiles, doesn't change that you don't feel the same _now_. You don't want this and it's not fair to put you through this, too.”

Stiles jaw dropped. Was Derek serious? Was he actually saying what Stiles thought he was?

“Derek, what do you think you're gonna do to break the bond? The only way to break it is if one of us die.”

Derek nodded his head firmly, staring at the wall across from them, not once even flicking his eyes over to the younger male sitting against him. Like his decision to end his life wouldn't even been a blip on Stiles' radar, like he didn't _matter_.

“I know what needs to be done. And I think it's about time. All the times I've almost died were bound to catch up to me at some poi-”

Stiles fist was connecting with Derek's jaw before his brain caught up to his actions, but he couldn't say he regretted it. He couldn't stop himself. Everytime his fists connected with Derek he felt relief from the stabbing pain, but his hands hurt from hitting the solid bone. He didn't usually act out in violence, but this time, this was different. Derek was talking about his life like it was switching a cell phone company. A pain in the ass, a bit more costly than you want to go through, but worth it in the long run. And that just didn't fly with Stiles Stilinski. He couldn't let Derek think it was okay to just throw his life away.

“Stiles, stop. Stiles!” Derek's hands enveloped Stiles' and jerked him against his front so Stiles landed chest-to-chest with the werewolf.

“You...stupid...asshole.” Stiles panted through sobs. Shit. When had he started crying? He had no idea, but he couldn't stop himself. His emotions were everywhere and it was exhausting. He just wanted to curl up in a ball and die. Derek was rejecting him and condemning them both to death. How could he be so heartless? When the hell did Organization 13 sweep in and make Derek a Nobody?

“Stiles, you're only going to hurt yourself if you keep trying to hurt me.”

“I don't care, Derek! I'm going to die anyway!”

Derek's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before narrowing into a glare. “Stiles, you're being unreasonable. The bond will break after I die and you'll be fine, I promise.”

Stiles shoved him away and sat up on Derek's lap, angrily swiping tears from his eyes and accidentally cutting his eyelid with the edge of his nail. “No, I won't, Derek. Whoever the hell you were with said I'll die, too. The way this bond works... the only way either of us could live through one of us dying is if we had a loving mateship before the other died. Just because I'm human doesn't mean I won't be affected, Derek.” Stiles wiped his cheeks as his tears fell. "And it would hurt me if you ended your life, regardless if we were in this situation or not."

“How is that even possible, Stiles? You don't have anything for the bond to connect with! You don't have a wolf inside of you, howling at you to be with me every day. You're human. It's impossible.” The werewolf tried to soothe him, but Stiles was firm and a little pissed off that Derek was still so dismissive about his own life.

“You're right, Derek, I am human, but I also have a spark, remember?" He ignored Derek as his eyes widened and his mouth opened in realization, barreling on before the other male could interrupt him. "I haven't done much to develop it or spent enough time with Deaton to do much with it, but it's still there, flaming away in my heart.” Derek tried to speak, but Stiles shook his head and continued, “So, yeah, I may not have a wolf howling inside me, but I do have this burning fire that stabs me every time we're apart. I get a fever, and chills and lose control of my bowels and throw up everything inside of me and I would rather die than feel that again. So if you're going to kill yourself to end the bond, then it's going to kill me.

“I debated asking Scott to bite me, but I don't think I'd like to live life as a werewolf and not be able to count you as pack. And that's not the bond talking, Derek. That's me, because I don't let things go, alright? I held on to Scott when he was pulling away to be with Allison and became popular and when he joined Deucalion to take down Ms. Blake, I hold on to my Jeep because it's the only thing I have to remember my mom by every single day. I hold on to my dad's health because I'll be damned if anything happens to him, if I can help it. And I'm not going to stop holding on to you. If you kill yourself, then you're killing me, whether you mean to or not.”

Derek was silent for so long, Stiles moved off of his lap and shifted to lean against the werewolf's side again. He couldn't handle sitting on Derek's lap any longer and stare at that unreadable face as he tried to figure out a loophole. Stiles was mentally exhausted and physically tired and just wanted to sleep so deep and peacefully again. He was just dozing off when Derek spoke up.

“I'm not going to have another person die because of me, Stiles.”

He didn't even bother to open his eyes, he was so close to falling asleep, but he didn't need to open his eyes to respond. “I'm not letting Scott bite me, Derek. Get over it.”

Derek nudged him and Stiles groaned and swatted at him. “Whatever it is, it can wait. Your impending suicide can wait for me to take another nap. Think about what I said. I've had weeks of deciding while I was trapped inside my own body. Your turn to think about your own existential crisis.”

The werewolf didn't respond and Stiles was able to drift off to sleep.

**~ ~ ~**

“I'm just warning you, before he left, Argent gave me silver bullets coated in wolfsbane poison. If I shoot you, you will be in a whole lotta pain.”

“Don't shoot, dad.” Stiles mumbled sleepily, rubbing at his eyes and sitting up, fumbling around until his fingers wrapped around Derek's forearm.

“Stiles, what the hell have you gotten yourself into now?” He could hear the relief, exhaustion and defeat in his dad's voice and it cut through Stiles like he was made of tissue paper.

“When Derek shifted into a full-shift werewolf, it was because we were mates, or we became mates when he shifted into a full werewolf. We're still not sure how it came to be, but either way, I'm his mate, we're bonded and we have to decide if it's worth living the rest of our lives with the bond or letting it kill us.” Stiles left out that if Derek committed suicide then he'd die, too. His dad didn't need to know that little fact right now.

“Oh, hell, Stiles. You don't do anything halfway, do you?”

Derek chuckled and Stiles swatted at him. “Shut up or I'll let him shoot you.”

The Sheriff rolled his eyes. “I'm not going to kill him because you say so, your highness.” His dad bent over and cupped the back of his neck, squeezing lightly, reassuringly and brought his forehead to Stiles.

“I thought you were dying, Stiles. I can't go through that again. I watched your mom die and I've watched you waste away from those damn nightmares and I worry everyday that you'll get yourself wound up in something you can't get out of and every ambulance siren I hear, I think it's going to you. I need you to slow down, Stiles. Good cholesterol or not, kid, one day you'll give me a heart attack.”

Tears welled up in Stiles' eyes and he swallowed thickly and nodded. “I know, dad. I'm sorry.”

His dad brushed a kiss against his forehead and ruffled his hair. “I know, Stiles. You're not a bad kid and I know you're not really a kid anymore, but you'll always be my son and I can't watch you go through something like that again.”

Stiles heart sank. “Dad...you didn't...you didn't drink because of me, did you?”

The Sheriff shook his head. “No. Melissa made sure of that. She said she'd keep an eye on me for you for all the times you watched out for Scott. And since Scott was watching over you...I wasn't going to argue.” His dad managed a small, genuine smile, “And she let me have steak and potatoes, so I wasn't gonna argue with her after that.”

Stiles faked a scowl. “I'll be having words with her as soon as I'm better.”

His dad shook his head with a good-natured grin. “Has he ever cooked for you?” He asked Derek.

“No.”

“Hey, that's not true! I made you Pop-Tarts this morning, asshole!”

His dad laughed. “That's hardly cooking, Stiles.” he winked at Derek, “But miles from what he's been making me eat. I wouldn't complain, if I were you."

Stiles rolled his eyes. “When did we change from wanting to shoot Derek to being buddy-buddy with him about my cooking skills?”

His dad just kept laughing and Derek looked pleased to be involved with the good-natured banter and didn't offer up anymore information. Stiles couldn't help but be wary. He had no idea how long this would last and wasn't sure how else he could convince Derek that he wouldn't be an awful mate.

Of course, Stiles had always been attracted to Derek. At first, it was just physical. Derek had the whole tall, dark and handsome thing going on for him. On top of being mysterious, broody and those fucking leather jackets. And, God, that Camaro. Stiles doesn't know how many fantasies he's cum to just from picturing Derek bending him over the hood, ripping down his jeans and just pounding into Stiles on the side of the road...ugh, if only Derek still had the Camaro and...

Well, if only Derek actually had an interest in being his mate. God, why was his life so fucked up?

“I'm gonna head out now, Stiles. Good luck sorting this all out. Call me if you need anything, both of you.”

“Bye, dad, love you.”

“Love you too, kid.”

Derek tilted his head and was quiet for a minute or two. “He's gone now.”

Stiles flopped back against the couch with a groan. “Okay.”

“We still have some things to discuss.”

“I know, Derek. Just...lay it on me.”

Derek's intense light green hazel eyes studied Stiles' face for a few brief seconds. “Actually, I want to hear how you feel, first.”

“I've told you how I feel, Derek. I told you this isn't just a mateship to me. This is a friendship that could be something if you'd give us both the chance.”

“I don't want you stuck to me, Stiles.”

Stiles blinked and frowned. “That's a little harsh, Derek. I'm hardly going to be clingy.”

“That's not what I meant,” Derek said with a jerky shake of his head. “I meant, before I left, you'd just broken things off with Malia and said you would be interested in exploring your options and eventually finding love. You can't do that if you're stuck to me.

“Granted, being stuck to me would be a better alternative than dying, but still, it'd be confining. Could you live your life mated to someone you didn't even like? Someone you weren't attracted to or compatible with? Someone who had physically assaulted you in the past and threatened you?”

Stiles lowered his eyes and rubbed his clammy palms against his sweatpants. “To be fair, you weren't the only one physically assaulting me and threatening my life. Jackson and Matt had their fair share of that. And Peter." Derek gave him a look and Stiles sighed, "Okay, jeez, I guess not, no.” He bit his lip and thought for a moment before huffing out a breath. “Is that how you'd feel mated to me? Confined?”

Derek glanced away. “This isn't about me, Stiles. This is about you and what's best for you.”

Stiles whipped his eyes to Derek's and poked the werewolf's pectorals. “No. That's not an answer and I'm not accepting it as one. I need to know how you feel, Derek. Because I may not be in love with you and I may not have ever felt anything toward you other than friendship, attraction and a small crush, but I could easily fall for you. If...if I let myself.” He poked him one more time for good measure. “And if you let me, too.”

The older male stared at Stiles for several long moments. “Stiles, are you absolutely sure?”

“I'd rather spend a lifetime with you than a lifetime without you.”

“Me, too.”

Stiles laughed thickly through the ball of the emotion settling in his throat, “That's a little narcissistic, Mr. Hale.”

Derek cuffed Stiles on the head. “You know what I meant, brat.”

Stiles rubbed at where Derek had made contact. “You know, Parrish calls me 'delinquent'. I think I prefer that to 'brat'.”

“What would you prefer? Honey muffin? Sweetie pie? Pumpkin?”

The younger male laughed happily, “Food pet names? Getting hungry like a wolf?”

Derek growled lowly and shifted enough to flash his canines at Stiles, “Better run, Pop-Tart, or you'll be dinner.”

Stiles' eyes lit up and he shot to his feet and darted off just as Derek made to grab at him.

He scrambled clumsily up the metal spiral staircase and knew the only reason Derek hadn't caught up yet was because the werewolf was giving him a head start, but a low growl signaled he'd soon catch up. Stiles flew down the hall to Derek's bedroom and into the en suite bathroom. He threw the door shut and locked it just as he saw Derek barrel into the room.

Stiles bit his lip to stop himself from laughing out loud as Derek scratched at the door just like a dog.

“Cheater,” Derek's voice lisped as he spoke around his canines, “Hiding like a frightened rabbit.”

“God, Derek, how many frightened rabbits have you chased that you could possibly compare them to me?”

“Enough.” Was the simple reply as the doorknob rattled. “You'll have to come out eventually, Stiles.”

Stiles pouted to himself. He kind of liked Derek calling him 'Pop-Tart'. Oh well, it was bound to slip out at some point. Especially since he ate them so often.

“Stiles?” Derek's voice sounded more urgent now.

“I'm fine.” Stiles responded as he sat on the rim of the tub and pulled off his shirt, feeling a bit lightheaded from the action. “I'm going to take a shower.”

“No, Stiles, let me in first,” Derek commanded as the doorknob rattled violently.

Stiles eyebrows arched up and he smirked. “Wow, you move fast, Sourwolf, but I'd like to take things a little slower. Buy me dinner first, at least.”

“No, Stiles, you don't understand. I'm not touching you right now. Are you okay?”

The teen froze as his sweatpants slid from his hips and pooled in a soft, cotton heap at his feet.

“Fuck. I'm a little shaky and lightheaded, actually.” He admitted, glancing from the door to the shower. “But I really need a shower, Derek. I smell awful and feel like crap. I have to have a shower.”

“Start a bath and unlock the door, okay? I'll grab you something for you to change into after.”

“Left side of the dresser, last drawer.” Stiles called over the sound of running water.

“My jeans drawer?”

“I don't know! It was empty and I put my clothes in it.”

Derek beat Stiles to the door and shook the door in it's frame.

“Damn werewolf speed.” Stiles muttered as he unlocked the door.

“I heard that,” Derek replied dryly.

“Damn werewolf senses.”

“How mature.”

Stiles scoffed as he stuck a toe in the water before sighing happily and stepping in the bath completely. He slowly sat down and leaned against the hard back rest as he did so. He pulled the curtains closed before calling that Derek could come in.

The younger teen bent his head back and peeped around the curtain and caught Derek as he frowned upon entering the bathroom and set down the clothes he picked out for Stiles on the back of the toilet. The werewolf rummaged around the linen stand next to the sink and grabbed two towels and two washcloths. He laid one towel on the floor, like a red carpet leading from the tub, and set the other one on top of Stiles' clothes on the toilet. He kicked the teen's discarded clothing toward the door and then sat on the closed toilet seat.

“Here,” he shoved both washcloths behind the curtain and accidentally smacked Stiles in the face with the back of his hand as he did so. “Shit, sorry.”

Stiles yelped and grabbed his face quickly to rub away the pain. “Jesus, Derek, warn a guy.” He rolled his eyes at the washcloths. “I know I said I was gross and needed to get clean, but I'm sure one washcloth will be more than sufficient.”

“I don't know, Stiles, you seem pretty dirty to me.” Derek's lips curled up in a smirk.

“Oh, you _think_ you know, Derek, but you really have no idea.”

Stiles watched as emotions played across Derek's face like a movie screen. The older male's eyes widened, his mouth dropped open a bit and his nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply with his mouth. Stiles had watched Scott do that same thing when he became aroused in public and knew he must be exuding some pretty powerful pheromones to make the ever stoic Derek Hale react this strongly.

“I'm sure I'll find out soon enough, then.”

Stiles blushed and ducked under the water quickly and blew bubbles to expel some of the energy inside of him.

“-iles?” He caught the end of his name and wiped the water from his eyes and sat up, clutching the rim of the tub as his body swayed. He was getting dizzier the longer he went without touching Derek.

“Uh, yeah?” He managed to splutter faintly.

“I've got a request. I understand if you don't want me to, but I need to run it by you.”

Stiles nodded before realizing Derek required a verbal response. “Okay. Shoot.”

“My wolf is unsettled and impatient and wants to make sure you're okay. Would you mind if I bathed you?”

Stiles mouth dropped open and his heart flipped in his chest. Did he have water in his ears? Could he have heard that correctly?

“It's fine if you don't want me to, I could just touch your shoulder or something while you bath, that way you don't get too dizzy or relapse, but I'd really like it if you would let me bathe you. I won't touch you anywhere you wouldn't want me to, I swear. I just, I need to take care of you for awhile, okay? Just until my wolf settles and accepts that I'm not gonna abandon you again. Whatever you're okay with.”

Stiles had to wet his lips so he could respond. His mouth was suddenly dry and his heart was thudding out of control in his chest and he felt this light, joyous feeling tumbling around in his very soul. “Sure. I'd like that.” He whispered huskily.

Derek slowly lowered himself to the floor and bunched the towel up by the tub to cushion his knees from the unyielding tile floor. Stiles pushed the shower curtain to the side to let more light into the tub area.

“The other washcloth was for you to put over your crotch, in case you aren't okay with me seeing you yet.” Derek informed him, but Stiles didn't react, so he carried on, “We'll do your hair first so we're not washing it in dirty water, okay?” Derek asked, his voice gruffer than usual and his eyes dark.

Stiles nodded and let Derek shift him down so he can re-wet his hair. The teen eased back up and wished he looked more like Ariel emerging from the sea instead of a soaking wet mortal. Was it too much to ask that he looked a little more appealing when he's got Derek Hale washing him? And oh God, Derek Hale is bathing him. How in the hell did this even happen?

“You've been using my shampoo, right?” Derek checked as he looked for the bottle.

“Yeah, I brought my own soap, toothbrush, comb and toothpaste, but that's about it. I almost brought my Captain American hooded towel, but thought I may forget it if you kicked me out.”

Derek laughed lowly, “Well, since we're going to be mated, I guess we'll have to move more of your stuff in.”

Stiles smiled lazily at the older male and let out a surprised moan as Derek began to massage the shampoo into his hair. “Yeah, we definitely need TV. And I demand DirectTV. And I've got Netflix on my Xbox, so we should be good. You need a pop culture shock.” He moaned as Derek gently worked out a particularly gnarly knot. “But you have magic fingers, so I'll let you off the hook for now.”

“We wolves can be surprisingly gentle when we want to be.”

“I'll say.”

They both fell into a companionable silence after that. Stiles lost himself to the feeling of Derek massaging shampoo into his hair and gently worked out the tangled knots of thick hair clumped together with dried sweat. Derek told him to take a deep breath before dunking him under the water and running his fingers through his hair, making sure he got all the shampoo out.

Stiles wiped the water from his eyes and smiled goofily up at Derek as he let out quite a bit of the water before refilling the tub with hotter water. If Stiles fell asleep in the bath this time around, at least he wouldn't get cold for awhile.

“So, we can stop with the shampooing, if you want. My wolf would be satisfied with that, but if you're okay with it, I'd prefer to keep washing you. That way my wolf will ease up about wanting to prove it can take care of you.”

Stiles smiled at the werewolf. “I told you, Derek, you can bathe me, I'm good with whatever. You may even lull me back to sleep.”

The older male snorted a laugh. “You'll sleep away your life if you keep this sleep schedule up.”

Stiles frowned and studied how pruney his hands were getting. “I haven't really slept in weeks, Derek. I wasn't really unconscious. I was fighting as much as I could just so my body didn't shut down on me. When I stopped fighting, it was like being in a bright room filled with flies. You're exhausted and you just want to sleep, but the light won't let you and the flies drive you crazy. And every minute I was fighting for my life, I was in physical agony. I was so ready to give up so many times. I held on just to see if you would save me.” He let out a short bitter laugh. “Your friend seemed to think that you would rather die than be mated to me.”

His whiskey colored eyes met Derek's deep green. “I almost gave up, Derek. I was trapped in my own body and was going to accept I'd die because you didn't want me.”

Derek let out a low-pitched, inhuman whine and lurched forward, startling Stiles, who sloshed water out of the tub, splashing Derek in the process, as he jerked away. His back was against the tiled wall and he had nowhere to go, but Derek didn't attack him. The older male just grabbed Stiles' arm and pulled him closer so he could rub the side of his face against Stiles' wet head.

“I'm so sorry, Stiles. I had no idea it would actually kill you. I swear I thought you'd come out of this fine.”

Stiles let him embrace him, but he was becoming uncomfortable.

“Derek?”

His response was a low hum.

“I think I can finish bathing by myself, if that's okay.”

Derek pulled back slowly and studied Stiles. “I'm sorry if I crossed the line, Stiles. I didn't mea-”

Stiles waved his hand, as if shooing away Derek's explanations and shot him a pained smile. “It's fine. I think I just need some time to myself for a little while, okay? We've been in each others personal space for almost a whole day and I need some breathing room. Maybe you can clear your head a bit? Make sure you really want to do this with me before we get any further.”

Derek frowned deeply, eyeing the younger male worriedly. “Stiles, I told you, I'm okay with this. I'd rather spend the rest of our lives together than kill us both. We can make it work.”

“Derek, I don't want you to be 'okay' with this." Stiles explained, used air quotes, "I don't want us to 'make this work'. I want something real. I want something meaningful. And I'd rather die than go through life by your side and be the only one invested in this,” he gestured vaguely between them, “Invested in this...emotionally, mentally and physically.”

The werewolf opened his mouth to rebut, but Stiles pleaded with his eyes for him to just give him some space.

Derek understood the discussion was closed for now and tried to move on amicably, “I'm gonna order us some food. You have any preferences?”

“I could go for some pizza. And have them bring some Coke, okay? And no, Pepsi is not an acceptable substitute.”

Derek wrinkled his nose. “What if they don't have Coke?”

“Then I don't want it. Pepsi isn't a viable replacement for Coke, when all you want is Coke. Coke has more syrup and Pepsi has more fizz and just because they're alike doesn't mean they are the same and can take each others place.”

Derek seemed to pick up the double meaning and nodded. “Call if you need me.”

Stiles saluted the male as he exited the bathroom, leaving the door open just a crack. Stiles pulled the curtain shut around the tub and submerged himself so his nose was barely above water.

What the hell had he gotten himself into?


	6. Till We Ain't Strangers Anymore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh, thank you all so much for your lovely comments, kudos, bookmarks and all the hits! I can't believe I have over 2,000 hits on this and you all have no idea how much I appreciate it.
> 
> I am exhausted since I've ran around all day doing errands, trying to make this one whole chapter, but I'll have to add on another because this is 22 pages on my word doc. I edited 22 pages in 2 hours and I'm so tired, but your feedback and interest makes it all worth it. I know a lot of you will be really happy with this chapter, so I'll finish this up.
> 
> This chapter (and the whole darn fic) was inspired by Bon Jovi and LeAnn Rimes' song " ** _Till We Ain't Strangers Anymore_** "

###  **Till We Ain't Strangers Anymore**

They decided to wait a week before making their final decision. It gave them time to get use to being in each others space and to regulate their bodies so they could be apart for extended periods of time. However, around three days in, they just naturally gravitated toward each other. At the beginning of the week, when they sat on the couch to eat or watch a movie (Stiles had finally convinced Derek to get a TV), they sat at opposite ends and pretty much ignored each other. Around the middle of the week, instead of keeping their respectable distances, Stiles usually started off sitting upright, but eventually slumped into the cushions until he was laying down with his head pillowed against Derek's shoulder or his feet in Derek's lap.

Throughout the day as they interacted, Derek started to enter Stiles' personal space more. When the teen separated their laundry, Derek would hover scant inches behind him until Stiles would lean back and Derek would step forward so the human could lean against his chest. He'd hook his chin on Stiles' shoulder and comment on the amount of graphic tees Stiles owned and his impatience regarding mating socks.

Derek hung around the kitchen as Stiles cooked, tasting whatever Stiles waved under his nose. Commenting on how amazing it smelled and wrinkling his nose when he tasted the creations Stiles cooked for his dad. He often said if Stiles fed him all that healthy food he'd put a wolfsbane infused bullet through his own head. Stiles had rolled his eyes and flipped him off, but he'd stopped making his dad mashed potatoes made out of cauliflower and smoothies made from protein powder, kale and egg whites. He was sure Derek was expecting a handwritten thank you note from his dad in the mail any day now.

If they went their separate ways during the day, then they spent the night together. Stiles had always been a night owl, his medication took forever to wear off and if he didn't physically tire himself out, he'd be up all night or pass out just long enough to get an hour or two of sleep and wake up sore, stiff, irritated and cranky. He'd be exhausted all day, but as soon as night came around, he'd repeat the process. It was one of the many reasons why he wanted to switch medication before college and give himself enough time to adjust to the new meds and figure out a dosage he could manage. But for right now, he had Derek. He wasn't sure why, but sleep claimed him easily and quickly every time he slept with the werewolf, but for the days they spent in each others personal bubble, Stiles camped out on the couch, binge-watching Doctor Who, scrolling through social media and trying not to disturb the sleeping werewolf a floor above him.

Stiles prodded Derek to open up more and found out that he even though he loved playing basketball in high school, he preferred baseball and running now. And Derek had a degree in English and nutrition and was considering becoming a physical trainer. Stiles groaned when he found out the werewolf use to enjoy watching CSI: Miami and pointed out all of its fallacies before they agreed to disagree. That didn't stop him from introducing the older male to Numb3rs and NCIS, which Derek admitted were more addicting and enjoyable. They talked about books they'd both read and terrible movie adaptions that were okay on their own, but a disgrace compared to the books they were based on. Stiles asked so many questions and Derek was open and it was obvious that they were both determined to see if they could live with the bond and make it work.

Of all the subjects they covered and debates they had, they didn't discuss the mateship. They promised to hold off until the end of the week. Not that it left their minds completely. Stiles thought about it several times a day as it crept up on him. Niggling at the back of the mind until he focused on it so completely, he'd almost had a panic attack wondering if he'd live to experience his senior year. Derek had calmed him down before it got out of hand, though. Holding him close and murmuring calming phrases and lighthearted conversation until Stiles' heart had resumed its normal rate.

Stiles held off on bringing anymore of his things over. He filled out applications and essays and read a couple of the books Derek had suggested, thinking he may like them. So far, he had and he was debating writing down the titles so he could buy his own copies so he didn't keep hogging Derek's. Derek never told Stiles he could borrow them whenever he wanted, but maybe the older male had felt it'd encroach on their staunch rules regarding the mateship.

Sentences began and were left unfinished. Unimportant, trivial things such as making plans further than dinner or discussing a movie that would come out in a couple of months that both would like to see. Despite trying to not think about anything long term, Stiles was forced to as he continued to fill out applications, wondering if he'd even get the chance to live to attend any of colleges he was applying to.

At one point, he considered asking Derek to buy a shit ton of beer and letting him throw a party so even if they broke it off, he'd have at least gotten fucked up and shitfaced once in his very short life. Something stopped him from asking, though. Not because he thought Derek would deny him, but because maybe Derek would think Stiles was implying there wasn't a chance they'd stick together and was just crossing off items on his bucket list before he accepted inevitable death. So Stiles kept it to himself and hoped Derek would see how much effort Stiles was putting in to show they could make the bond work out in both of their favors.

Perhaps against his better judgment, Stiles held off on making any appointments to get his ADHD prescription changed and anything else long term. He didn't see the point in making a dentist appointment if he wasn't going to be around long enough to get his teeth cleaned, nor get a check-up and meningitis shot if there was never a chance to catch it. Instead, Stiles hung out with Scott a bit, bothered Parrish at the station for at least an hour every day and spent even longer hanging out with his dad in his office or at home. He even met Malia and Lydia for frozen yogurt after one of their tutoring sessions. Danny had gone back to school for lacrosse training sometime while Stiles was still out of it, so he got to miss out on his old schoolmate questioning him and the awkward questioning he was sure that would've followed.

Stiles had to admit, he liked the time he spent with Derek and enjoyed being with him, but he couldn't help but think the man would never resign himself to a lifetime to the absurdities and insanity of Stiles Stilinski.

**~ ~ ~**

Monday rolled around much too quickly for Stiles' liking. The night before had been perfect. He and Derek had gone to his house and had a very late dinner with his dad. He'd let his dad eat red meat for once (Stiles made the best pot roast, it was his grandmother's secret recipe and he got it just right every time). They even had warm, cherry cobbler (gluten-free crust, of course) with sugar free vanilla ice cream on top. After dinner they sat outside in the front yard and watched the kids around the neighborhood chase lightning bugs. Before they left, his dad had hugged him tight and told him he'd see him tomorrow, and for the love of all things holy, never feed him garbanzo beans again. Stiles had just nodded, not even riling his dad up for once. He wasn't sure he'd be able to bring his dad lunch ever again. He just hoped his dad's health wouldn't spiral out of control if this didn't work out the way Stiles hoped.

He and Derek hadn't slept together the night before, since they'd spent so much time together with Stiles' dad the night before, so Stiles was exhausted and achy and more grumpy than he wanted to be. This was not the best way to deal with the important matters they'd tackle in the coming hours. He ate his Pop-Tart quickly and took his Adderall right after, hoping it'd kick in soon.

Stiles was pacing around the couch and coffee table anxiously. He couldn't calm his erratically beating heart and he felt like he was going to burst out of his skin. He heard Derek call his name from the second floor, but he couldn't handle discussing it right now. He was too wired, not medicated enough and definitely not mentally ready to talk about whether or not Derek would mate with him or condemn them both to death. So he took a leaf out of Derek's book.

“I'll be back in awhile! I gotta do something real quick!” Stiles shouted back. He snatched his keys off the coffee table and was out the door before Derek could respond.

**~ ~ ~**

Stiles drove around town aimlessly for awhile, but he couldn't get the werewolf off his mind. Everywhere he went there was a memory involving Derek, pack business or his own little nightmare of horrors from when he'd been a vessel for the Nogitsune. He didn't know why he was prolonging this. It wasn't like running away from his problems would make them go away. Stiles wasn't a runner. He was a planner, a thinker and didn't run from obstacles.

He snorted and shook his head at his own antics. Derek must be rubbing off on him because since when did Stiles Stilinski run from his problems? He turned the Jeep around as soon as he was legally able to do so and headed back to Derek's apartment. It was time to face the music.

**~ ~ ~**

Scott intercepted him in the parking lot before he could go into the loft. “Hey man, I need your help researching something. I got a package in the mail and it had these weird marks on it. I thought it might be cursed, so I dropped it off at Deaton's, but he's too busy too look at it now and thought you could help me out, since you're way better at research than I am.”

Stiles glanced toward the loft, but nodded. “Yeah, no problem. I just have to text Derek that I'll be later than I thought.” He reached for his phone and it lit up with a message as he awoke the screen.

_**I heard you and Scott. Its fine. We can talk later.”** _

“Lemme guess, he heard us?” Scott asked as he handed Stiles his extra helmet, his brown eyes glinting with amusement.

“Yeah, stupid werewolves and their stupid senses.” Stiles muttered as he clicked the helmet in place and climbed on the back of Scott's dirt bike.

**~ ~ ~**

“Ugh, I don't think we're gonna find anything today, Scotty. I've looked at every picture in this stupid bestiary and I can't find anything that looks like the amulet you were sent.”

Scott nodded and glanced up from the website he'd been searching. “I haven't found anything, either. This sucks.”

Stiles stood up and stretched, shooting his friend a smile through a yawn. “These things take time, Scott.”

His friend smirked, “I'm the impatient one and you're the one with ADHD. How does that work?”

Stiles laughed and set the bestiary down on Scott's desk and reached for his phone and keys. “I've got the ability to hyper-focus on things that interest me. That includes researching.”

Scott wrinkled his nose and followed Stiles out of the room. “I think I'll just let Deaton handle this one. He's gotta know more than us.” He grabbed the keys to his dirt bike and handed Stiles a helmet.

“Hey now, I just skimmed over the entire bestiary, like, 5 times. I know about half as much as Deaton now.”

“Don't let Deaton hear you say that, or he may never help us out again, bro.”

Stiles rolled his eyes and climbed on to the bike. “You picking up Kira after you drop me off?”

Scott's smile became dopey. “Yeah. We're gonna see that new Meryl Streep movie she's been talking about.”

Stiles pretended to gag. “Well, let's not keep the lady waiting. Home, Jeeves!” He nudged Scott's thighs with his knees and laughed as his friend popped a wheelie and peeled out of the driveway.

Stiles was winded after Scott's safe, but wicked quick maneuvers through after-work traffic. He was happy to be off the dirt bike and back on solid ground. Not that the bike was horrible or that Scott was a terrible driver, but...he'd take his jeep any day.

“I'll see you tomorrow, man. Call me and let me know how it goes. If I don't hear from you by tomorrow morning, I'll assume the worst and be over to go alpha on both of your asses.”

Stiles winced, but managed a nod and tight smile. “Yeah, okay. Go have fun with Kira.”

Scott's eyes twinkled as he waggled his eyebrows. “Oh, I will.”

The pale teen rolled his eyes upward, “I do not want to know, Scott.”

His friend laughed as he revved up the bike. “No promises. See you, Stiles. Everything will be fine, bro. Don't worry.”

Stiles waited until his friend had left before he began his funeral march to the loft. Don't worry? Worried was Stiles middle name.

He paused outside the door. Should he knock? Just barge in? He hadn't knocked even once after Derek came back, but something felt different about today. Maybe he should knock, just to-

“Come in, Stiles.”

Stiles rolled his eyes and opened the door. Stupid werewolves.

“Sorry I was gone so long, Scott needed my help researching something and you know how bad he is at that, so I, uh, helped.”

He glanced around, but he didn't see Derek, which was weird because when the older male told him to come in, it sounded like he was right on the other side of the door. 

“Derek?”

“I'll be down in a sec. Would you mind locking the door? And could you text the others to not interrupt unless it's a life or death situation and they absolutely need us?”

“Uh, sure.” Stiles frowned, but pulled out his phone and tapped out a message to everyone through their group message. He even shot Lydia an email, remembering that she shut off her phone when she was helping Malia study, knowing it would distract the were-coyote.

“All done, Derek. You wanna talk down here?”

“No. Come up here.”

“Ah, uh, okay. Yeah.” Stiles' back broke out in a cold sweat and his heart picked up speed in his chest. He tried to calm himself down as he walked up the metal spiral staircase, each metallic thud ringing like a funeral dirge in his head.

He froze in the doorway to Derek's room. The overhead light was off, but a smattering of unscented candles were spread out around the room, enough to give the room a romantic glow. Derek had taken a seat in a leather recliner in his room, nestled in the corner of the next to the wall of bookshelves.

“Um, did you blow a breaker up here or something? Cause I can fix that.” Stiles offered as he wiped his sweaty palms off on the thighs of his jeans.

Derek smiled and his teeth glinted in the candlelight. “No, the lights work. I just thought the candles were more appropriate.”

“Oh.” Stiles offered intelligently, his eyes darting around the room. “Does this ritual involve a priest, salt, our blood, Holy water and runes or a chant? Is Supernatural a reality TV show in disguise?”

“What?”

The younger male waved his hand. “Nevermind. Pop culture reference. We'll work on it. Uh, I mean, I guess we could work on that, depending on how this ritual goes.”

Derek stared Stiles down. “There's not really a ritual involved in this, Stiles. We're just going to talk for right now, okay?”

Stiles sighed and perched himself on the edge of the bed nearest to the older male and faced him. “Okay. Let's get this outta the way, then.”

“I'm going to go first, if that's okay.”

Stiles shook his head. “Actually, no. I'm going to go first and put it all out there for you, Derek.”

He took a deep breath and let it out in a flood of words, “In the past week I've fallen asleep next to you and actually slept peacefully and restfully, something that hasn't happened in such a long time, I don't know when I've slept more peacefully. I've woken up content by your side, feeling warm and protected. I slipped into a routine with you, like separating the laundry and throwing socks at you when you made fun of me for mismatching them. I've cooked for us and played Paper, Scissors, Rock over who has to do the dishes. We've hung out together and gotten along just fine and gone our separate ways, but never left angry. I've gotten closer to you and picked up on a few of your quirks, bad habits and pet peeves. I've gotten use to you.

“And I don't want it to end, Derek. I may not be in love with you, but I really, really like you. You're not just the guy who tried to help Scott out, or changed my classmates into your pack, or slowly became my friend, someone I consider pack. I feel something inside for you that could be much more than friendship, Derek. And it's not just the bond between us, messing with my mind or filtering my thoughts. I felt something for you since that day you found Scott's inhaler in the woods. And as I got to know you, it only grew. I feel like this bond has been a long time coming and I don't want to break it, Derek.

“I know you might think I may be using you and the bond just so I don't die, but I'd honestly rather die than have you bond with me and think that's all this is for. If you don't want this, then I won't force it. I couldn't be bonded to you and know you're just doing it for my sake.”

Stiles stopped himself before he started rambling and began jiggling his leg as he ran his hand through his hair, making it stick up. “How do you feel about this?” He mentally pat himself on the back for not stuttering.

Derek leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees and fixated all of his focus on the younger male. “Stiles, for the longest time you were just an annoyance I had to put up with, because I was trying to help Scott and you were just...there.”

“O- Oh.” Stiles heart sank in his chest and he dropped his gaze to study the threads in his jeans. Well, that was heartbreakingly brief. Leave it to Derek not to mince his words after Stiles' Lifetime movie worthy speech.

He heard Derek get up and didn't look up as the older male stopped in front of him, so close Stiles could feel the body heat radiating from him.

A calloused finger rested under his chin and tipped his head up until his eyes met Derek's. The older male's gaze was intense, but not unkind.

“That doesn't mean you haven't grown on me, Stiles. You've grown up, matured and you're not a scared teenager trying to proof yourself to anyone, anymore. You know who you are, and what you want and how you feel. You're young and still have a lot more to experience in life.”

Stiles opened his mouth to counter him, but Derek placed his thumb firmly against the teen's lips and continued.

“But that doesn't mean you can't make your own decisions. And this time, your decisions reflect mine.” Derek smoothed his thumb over the younger male's lips before drifting and cupping the teen's jaw. “I'm willing to try making the mateship work, Stiles.”

Stiles cleared his throat and wet his lips before he spoke, “I just want to establish a couple of ground rules first, Derek, if you don't mind.”

The older male's eyes hardened and he took his face away from Stiles and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Go on.”

“Well, uh, I'm not sure what the bond consists of, but I'd like it if we were exclusive. Nobody on the side. I want to give you all of me, so I'd like all of you, too.”

A small smile twitched across the werewolf's lips. “There is no cheating in a mateship, Stiles. I'm taking this very seriously, so of course there won't be anyone on the side.”

Stiles jerked his head in a nod. “Good. Okay, second, I want us to communicate. So, no going to bed angry, no leaving angry. We settle things as they come up and not put them to the side. I've heard my dad tell me too many stories of devastated couples who left angry and got in a car accident and died without saying 'I love you' one last time. I don't want that to happen with us.”

Derek nodded. “That's manageable. Anything else?”

“Just one more thing,” Stiles stood up and gripped the older male's bicep with one hand and cupped Derek's jaw with the other. “No leaving. It's too simple to live your life with one foot out the door when things get tough, but I can't live like that, Derek. If we do this, I want you to stay. We're not strangers anymore and we're going to be more than friends, more than lovers. I can't go through with this thinking you could walk out and never come back. I can't go through that again, Der.”

Derek closed his eyes and swallowed visibly before turning his face into Stiles' hand and pressing a gentle kiss to his palm. “I promise not to leave you like that again, Stiles.”

Stiles inhaled sharply as tingles spread through his hand and shot through his body. He had to focus on controlling his voice to stop it from wavering. “That's easy to say, Derek, but how can I know you really will?” His voice slipped into a pleading tone at the end. “I know I'm not the easiest person to be around all the time. Even my dad only gets me in measured doses, but whenever you walk out the door, I need to know you're coming back.”

Derek dropped his arm and settled his hands on Stiles' hips, gripping firmly, but gently. “I'm not the easiest guy to live with either, Stiles. But we'll work on it and I promise, with all of my being, that I will not run from you again.” He bent his head so their foreheads were touching and they were forced to look into each others eyes. “The only thing I'll be running from is your dad when he finds out you're settling down with me at only 18.”

Stiles closed his eyes and huffed out a light laugh. “So long as you're running to me, I'm okay with that.”

The werewolf squeezed Stiles' hip a little tighter before sliding up until his hand was under the teen's shirt. Stiles couldn't stop the surprised gasp and his wide eyes searched Derek's.

“Are those all of your ground rules?” Derek seemed to be in perfect control, but his voice had dropped an octave and it sent delicious shivers down Stiles' spine.

Stiles' thoughts swam dizzily through his head for a second, but he managed to clear it enough to form a reply, “I think so. Ask me when my brain isn't mush.”

Derek let out a low laugh and teased lightly, “I thought your brain was always mush.”

“Ass,” Stiles countered, “You're making it hard for me to think. How come you're not affected?” He may have pouted, but he'd deny it with his last breath.

Derek pulled Stiles closer until their bodies were flush together. Stiles let a moan slip from his mouth as he felt Derek's clothed erection against his own. “Oh, fuck, Derek.”

“Mhmmm, soon, just have to do something first.” He shifted Stiles a bit so he could press his thigh more firmly against Stiles' groin, making the younger male moan again.

“What?”

Derek lowered his head and brushed a kiss to Stiles' lips. A high keening noise rose from Stiles' throat as he eagerly returned the kiss, his hands drifting to Derek's shoulders before wrapping around his neck and pulling him impossibly closer. Derek's hands slid to the younger male's back before gliding over his ass and settling on the back of his upper thighs. He quickly tugged Stiles up into the air and Stiles wrapped his legs around the werewolf's hips, hooking his ankles together behind the elder male's back.

Derek pulled away so they could catch their breath. “Are you ready for this? We can hold off for a little bit and keep our current arrangement for awhile longer, if you want. If you think we're rushing things. I don't want to push you into this too soon. If you need more time, I can wait.”

Stiles felt heat spread through his body. “You'd hold off fucking me if I wanted?”

The werewolf nodded. “If that's what you wanted, I could.” His eyes traced the younger male's face before settling on his lips. “But no more sleeping on the couch. I want to fall asleep with you in my arms and wake up with you by my side everyday.”

A shudder rippled through the human's body as Derek's words echoed through his mind. He couldn't believe this was happening, how his life was turning out. He wondered if he'd actually died during the fever and was in heaven. These sort of things didn't happen to him.

“Stiles?”

The younger male hummed in response, lost in his thoughts.

“Do you wanna hold off or keep going?”

“I want this, Derek. I'm ready to be your mate. I don't want to wait.”

“I hope that rhyme was unintentional, cause it was pretty awful.”

Stiles rolled his eyes and dug his heels into the werewolf's back. “It was unintentional, but it was also heartfelt, asshole.”

Derek chuckled as he pressed a quick kiss to Stiles' lips and lowered him to the floor. “If I were an asshole, I wouldn't be taking time with this.”

“Well maybe I wish you weren't taking so much time,” Stiles countered as he pulled his shirt off and tugged at the hem of Derek's. “Maybe I want you to take this a little quicker.”

The older male smirked at the human. “Maybe if I had the stamina of a sixteen year old I could take it as quickly as you're use to, but I've got enough control to make this last quite a while, Stiles. I could keep you on the edge of an orgasm for longer than your body can handle and fuck you til you're begging me to cum.”

Stiles moaned and tugged Derek's shirt off before attacking his lips with his own, his hands smoothing down the werewolf's shoulders to his pecs and over his abs before reaching the waist of the his jeans and fumbling with the belt buckle.

Derek's hands roamed down the human's back and dipped a hand into the back of Stiles' jeans, clutching a handful of the younger male's firm ass, forcing another moan from Stiles' lips. Derek's tongue took advantage and slipped inside Stiles' mouth and playfully flicked against Stiles' as he traced a finger between the teen's clothed ass cheeks.

“D—Derek. Fuck. Need you.”

The werewolf growled low in his throat as he removed his hand from the back of Stiles' jeans and drifted to the front and began working on the button. His fingers fumbled clumsily and he broke the kiss and grumbled loudly as he finally managed to pop the button free.

“Do...do you have condoms? Lube?” Stiles stammered shakily, running a trembling hand through his hair as he pushed Derek's hands away from his jeans and took over with the zipper. He didn't want the werewolf ruining his jeans.

Derek nodded and began working on his own jeans. “I do, but I don't really need a condom. Werewolves don't get diseases, so there's nothing for you to catch from me. And obviously I can't get you pregnant, but if you don't want my cum dripping from your ass afterwards, I can wear a condom.”

Stiles paused in his undressing at the mental image of being sated and fucked open on Derek's cock and his cum leaking from his ass. A growl cut his imagination short.

“Judging from the jump in arousal flooding off you, we'll be foregoing condoms.”

The human blushed, but nodded. “I want you to cum in me, Derek. I want to feel all of you. Everything you have to offer.”

Derek moaned and kicked off his jeans. “Then get out of those clothes and on the bed, Stiles.”

Stiles kicked off his jeans and, despite his eagerness, his hands trembled as he pushed down his boxer briefs, his hard cock bouncing gently up to tap his lower abdomen. He idly dragged his fingertips across the splatter of precum through his happy trail, smearing it into his skin.

“Fuck, Stiles. You smell so good.”

A blush spread across the human's cheeks and a pleased smile bloomed on his lips. “I wish I could smell you like you can smell me.” He cocked his head to the side and wrinkled his nose. “Is that a weird thing to say?”

Derek scoffed and crowded into the teen's personal space. “Not coming from you, no. That's almost normal.”

Stiles laughed, a little nervously, and swatted at the older male's arm. “Asshole.”

“You know, you need to come up with a better nickname for me. I'm not going to put up with you calling me an asshole for much longer.” Derek's eyes flashed electric blue before he blinked and they faded back to light green with golden specks.

“Big bad wolf? Fenrir? Mooney!”

“Ugh, no fairy tales or Harry Potter.”

“Fenrir was actually the name of Cloud Strife's bike in Final Fantasy, I'll have you know,” Stiles countered with a smirk as he locked his arms around Derek's neck and pulled the male closer to him. “But Fenrir Greyback is also the name of a Harry Potter character, so ten points to Gryffindor.”

“Gryffindor? Not Slytherin?”

Stiles smirked, “Oh, Der, no way. _I'm_ the Slytherin.”

Derek hummed and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “True. You're devious, cunning and quite evil.”

“Some might call me a wolf in sheep's clothing.”

The werewolf laughed. “No, that's definitely Scott.” He pressed another kiss to Stiles' lips. “Now are you ready to stop stalling and get on the bed or are you having second thoughts? Anytime you want to stop is fine with me, Stiles. This mateship goes both ways, okay? You can trust me to take care of you.”

Stiles took a deep breath and nodded, “Yeah, yeah, I wanna do this. Just...maybe a little slow, okay? I've never done this with a guy before, so I'm not exactly, ah...experienced with this kind of thing.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Neither am I, Stiles, but I promise I'll go as slow as you want.”

Stiles nodded firmly and pressed his lips back to Derek's, tangling his fingers in the older male's thick hair.

They broke apart a few moments later to catch their breath and Derek moved his hand from Stiles' hip and placed it over his left pectoral, right over his heart. “Your heart is still beating like crazy, Stiles. If you're not ready, we can do it another way.”

“What way?” Stiles asked, genuinely curious. Was there some special position that calmed nerves and made him a bit less pained? He wasn't too flexible to have sex in some crazy yoga pose, except for maybe downward dog, but his arms would give out on the first fuck, for sure.

“You could fuck me instead.”

Okay, that _so_ was not what Stiles was expecting.

The younger male's mouth dropped open a bit as he stared at the werewolf in disbelief. “What?”

“You can fuck me, Stiles.”

Stiles shook his head slowly. “I appreciate the offer, Derek, but for now, I really, really want your cock in my ass. But, uh, can I take a rain check on that? I'd...I'd like to try that another time.”

Derek smiled softly at the younger male and nodded. “Yeah.”

Stiles bit his lip and glanced over at the bed. “So...how do you want me? I've watched enough porn to know on my hands and knees is the best position because it'll naturally open me up and be a much smoother fuck, but honestly, I'd rather be on my back so I can look at you.”

Derek's eyes darkened with lust as his pupils widened a bit. “Maybe get on your hands and knees first, so I can open you up and then we'll flip you over.”

The human nodded and fell back against the bed, scooting backwards up the mattress until his butt hit the pillows. “Pull the comforter off, okay? It's a pain in the ass to wash and dry.”

The werewolf grabbed the end of the comforter and snapped it off the bed, the motion jolting Stiles back and he cracked his head on the wooden headboard. His eyes shut and he cradled his head, gingerly holding where he'd hit it.

“Ow! Fuck!”

“Shit, sorry.”

“Bad wolfie. Ow. Get me the newspaper so I can bop your nose.”

Stiles opened his eyes as he felt the mattress dip and saw Derek crawling toward him, his canines out and his face partially shifted, though his claws were retracted, which was a blessing since Stiles really liked these sheets and didn't want Derek to replace them anytime soon.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I'll probably have a bump and be a little sore tomorrow, but I'll survive.”

Derek's lips spread into a smile that looked absolutely predatory with his canines glinting in the candlelight. “You'll definitely be more than a little sore tomorrow, Pop-Tart.”

“Promises, promises.” Stiles teased, trying to control his heart from beating out of his chest. He was sure the older male could hear it and flashed the were' a smile before he could question him again on whether or not he wanted to go through with this.

Derek stopped almost a foot away from Stiles and leaned forward to catch his lips in a kiss before placing his hand over Stiles' on his head. The throbbing disappeared almost instantly, and Stiles quickly felt a little less dizzy.

“Thanks.” Stiles murmured against the older male's lips, belatedly realizing Derek's canines had retracted again. He leaned back and prodded the werewolf's lips and studied the perfectly straight, normal white teeth.

“Are you going to have to mark me?”

“Shit, yeah. Did I forget to tell you that?”

Stiles snorted in amusement, and nodded. “Yeah. Anything else I need to know?”

Derek shook his head and nipped at Stiles' fingertip. “No, but I'm getting impatient and high off your pheromones. It's driving me crazy. I want to be in you so bad, but we have to get you ready first. Come on, on your hands and knees, Pop-Tart.”

As Stiles gets in position he heard the bedside table drawer open and close and the familiar sound of the lip popping open on the lube.

“Where were you hiding that? I went through all of your drawers after you left, hoping you left behind a hidden note or something. I didn't find a single bottle of lube, lotion or condom.”

“I went shopping while you were out today. We were out of milk and I thought it'd be good to grab lube, just in case.”

“Is it flavored?”

“No. Werewolf senses, remember? It's scent-free and tastes kinda like mineral oil.”

Stiles wrinkled his nose. “Ew.”

He yelped as Derek swatted at his ass. He turned to glare at the older male over his shoulder. “I had no idea you were into spanking, Derek. We will have a discussion about that later.” Stiles said as he bent his elbows, lowering his head so he could cradle it in his hands and spread his knees further apart while shifting his upper body weight forward a bit more.

He raised his upper body enough to glance down to see Derek through his spread legs, but his view was obstructed by his own cock, bobbing toward the mattress and drooling precum. Stiles bit his lip and put his head back in his hands and tried to ignore the blush spreading across his face as Derek let out a low, animalistic growl behind him.

“Come on, Derek. Do something, please. It's embarrassing being open like this and I can _feel_ you staring at me. Ju-”

Stiles cut himself off with a yelp as a cool, slicked finger traced his rim. Oh God, that had felt amazing. And Derek hadn't really _done_ anything yet, just laid one finger on him.

“Fuck, Stiles, you're so tight,” He could hear the lust in Derek's voice and it made him moan in response. “Have you ever fingered yourself?”

Stiles' low chuckle turned into a high keen as Derek's finger rubbed more firmly against his hole.

“Of- of course I have. OH!” Derek's finger had pushed through his tight rosebud in one solid movement and just on this side of painful. “More lube, De-Der. Ple- please.” He tried to focus on releasing the tension in his muscles all over his body after Derek's unexpected move.

“Sorry.”

The younger male moaned woefully as Derek's thick finger was removed and he winced as it returned, much cooler and slicker than before and the werewolf didn't waste time in picking up where he left off.

“Do you finger yourself often?”

Stiles shook his head and choked on another moan. It felt so different than when he fingered himself and could expect what he was doing and his fingers were thinner than Derek's. Much thinner.

“Stiles?”

He hummed as his brain caught up. “Oh, uh, I use to, before my English teacher went crazy and my body entered a timeshare with a Nogitsune.” He barreled on, knowing Derek would start thinking of the crazy Darach and his own involvement. “After that I was al-always too on edge to get into it. Plus, Malia wasn't into prostate stimulation.”

Derek slid in another finger without warning, but this time, it was lubed up enough that Stiles didn't feel the burn, just the delicious stretch that made him feel so hot and a little desperate for more.

“Hm, that explains why you're so tight.”

Stiles huffed breathily, “And I'm a virgin when it comes to this, so, yeah.”

Derek's fingers hesitated briefly enough for Stiles to pick up on it. “Der?” He began cautiously. He got a low hum as the male twisted his fingers and rubbed soothingly against his insides and Stiles had to take a few breaths before remembering what he was about to ask. “You remembered me telling you that, right? That I haven't been with a guy yet. And that I'm really, really glad that the guy I get to do this with is you, right?”

He could hear the smile in the man's voice as he replied, “No, I don't remember that being _exactly_ what was said, but I'm glad.” Derek shifted a bit behind Stiles and began scissoring his fingers while tracing the stretched out rim with the pad of his thumb. “But if you change your mind, tell me and I'll stop.”

Stiles thrusted back against the werewolf's fingers and balled his hands into fists. “I think I'll be begging you to do the exact opposite of that.” He moaned as Derek's fingers brushed his prostate. “Fuck, Der. Right there!”

Stiles jumped as Derek's fingers touched the sweet gland of nerves again and began idly stroking it as his free hand reached down to grip Stiles' cock.

“Fuck, Stiles, you're so hard. Do you wanna come like this?” The older male stroked Stiles' cock a few times until he got use to the angle and began twisting his wrist everytime he neared the head. It was a dry burn, since Derek hadn't lubed up this hand, but it was more pleasureful than it was painful and Stiles could barely breathe, let alone respond to the stupid werewolf's ridiculous question.

Derek growled low in his throat and Stiles could tell his wolf was closer to the skin than his human side right now, and that just made the teen a little hotter.

“Stiles, answer me. Do you want to come like this?”

“Fuck, yes, Derek, please. Let me come!”

A short howl was his only answer as Derek's fingers pressed firmly to his prostate. The werewolf's thumb barely pushed against the rim before his hole quickly swallowed Derek's thumb inside. The delicious stretch of his hole just adding to his pleasure as Derek stroked his cock with a firm, experienced hand. The older male's thumb swirled around the leaking head and coaxed Stiles' orgasm from him without any preamble.

It didn't make Stiles black out, but the intensity of his orgasm surprised him and the stimulation from hands that weren't his own had made him feel a little spaced out, sated and mind-numbingly relaxed.

He groaned in protest when Derek's fingers left him and let out a shocked yelp when the werewolf lifted him up and pulled him against the older male, and the werewolf moved them so they weren't laying in Stiles' wet patch of cum. The teen was easily and gently flipped onto his back and he could start seeing colors and shapes around the fuzziness clouding his vision and, okay, maybe he had blacked out...

Derek settled himself between Stiles' legs and slipped his wet fingers back inside the blissed out teen, earning him a pinched keening sound followed by a wheezy breath.

“'Ar'you fucking me with my cum?” Stiles slurred, lifting his head up with great effort to look at the werewolf between his legs.

The older male smirked and that was all the answer Stiles needed. “Fuck, Der. 'S hot.” His hips jerked reflexively as Derek's finger found his prostate once more. “Oh fuck, y-yes,” He rotated his hips and bore down around the werewolf's digits, his rim fluttering, silently begging for more.

“Jesus, Stiles. You're so hot inside. Can't wait to get in you,” Derek moaned, biting his lip and narrowing his eyes as he forced his wolf away from the forefront.

“Mmmm, get in me.” The teen encouraged, thrusting his hips back on the fingers scissoring inside of him, trying to keep up.

Derek growled in his throat and bent over Stiles, bringing the younger male into a passionate kiss that only made Stiles' head spin and Derek's wolf howl in satisfaction.

“Wait,” Stiles twined his fingers through Derek's hair and held the man in place over him, finally able to think through the hormones and post-orgasm bliss. “I wanna know something before we do this.”

Derek nodded and wordlessly removed his fingers from Stiles' hot, well-stretched hole and focused on the young man panting below him.

“I need to know what you see in me before we go through with this. I know you said you want to make this work, but, please. Just tell me what you see in me before we cross the line.”

Derek's eyes softened and he adjusted his weight, holding his body up with his right elbow and entwined Stiles' fingers with his own and stroked the younger male's side with his other hand.

“I see a loyal friend, a great son, a fierce protector and a beautiful soul when I look at you, Stiles. You're intelligent, attractive, sarcastic, funny and so clever. You make people see the good in themselves and you fight for what you believe in. You don't back away from problems and you don't let anything stop you. And I can't believe I ever walked away from you, even for a moment.” Derek squeezed his hand tightly with his own before bringing their joined hands to his mouth and kissed each of Stiles' knuckles with so much reverence and tenderness that Stiles' heart began thudding in his chest and he lost his breath for a second.

“And if it takes everyday til the day that I die to make you realize that I want this just as much as you and will be there for you, no matter what, then I'll do it. Because you're worth it, Stiles. And I'm so happy you're my mate. I've never experienced foreplay that wasn't just a necessity; a means to an end. But if foreplay with you is that amazing, I can only imagine how special making love will be.”

Stiles was speechless, and for once, he had no words. No teasing or quips or a pop culture reference to break the emotions vibrating in the air around them. So he just squeezed Derek's hand just as tightly and leaned forward to kiss the other male deeply and desperately.

“Derek, you're so...everything. I never would've thought I'd ever get a chance to be with you like this. And if we did, it'd either be heat of the moment, a serious lapse of judgment on your part or maybe some crazy fuck-or-die spell and you were just doing your duty to help me out. But this... to be yours and you'll be mine for the rest of my life is almost too good to be true. We've both had some really shitty things happen to us, I know. We've had people we love die, we've been manipulated and killed people we loved and we've punished ourselves long enough. We deserve this. I'm never going to let you think you don't deserve all the love and happiness in the world and I'm so fucking happy that I'm the one who gets to show you that for the rest of our lives.”

Derek launched at Stiles, cupping his face with both hands and crashing down on top of the younger male, knocking the wind out of him and pressing their still hard, throbbing erections together.

Stiles moaned into Derek's mouth and thrust his hips up into the older male's pelvis. “Der, I want you in me, but I wanna suck you first.” He wet his lips subconsciously, his focus on the older male's eyes.

“Fuck, yes.” Derek quickly pushed off of Stiles and sat back on his ankles, struggling to keep his balance on the memory foam mattress.

Stiles mirrored his position and had to swallow the saliva that pooled in his mouth at the sight of Derek's cock. He didn't know if Derek was naturally well-endowed or it was maybe a little supernatural, but Derek's cock was about an inch longer than Stiles', whose cock was of perfectly average length, but the dick in front of him was easily as wide as Stiles' fist. No wonder Derek was so adamant about stretching. Stiles would have probably needed four of his own fingers to fuck himself open just to be able to take Derek without tearing himself.

“Did you get bigger when you became a full-shift werewolf?” He asked, hunching over to examine the beautiful specimen of man's virility.

“No, it's always been this size.” Derek reached out and gently pulled Stiles' hand to his hard, throbbing length.

It was the first time Stiles touched anyone else's cock and he could tell the differences, not just in size, but Derek's cock was much warmer than his own and seemed to pulse with it's own heartbeat. It had a few navy colored veins climbing from the base to the uncircumcised tip, where the foreskin had peeled back to reveal the vibrant red head, which was leaking a steady stream of clear fluid from the slit.

“I feel like my dick is being graded.”

Stiles snorted a laugh and appreciated Derek breaking the silence. “If I were grading it, you get an A+ and like, 500 points to Gryffindor.”

The werewolf groaned, “And we're back to Harry Potter.”

Stiles smirked as he lowered himself closer to Derek's cock, making the other male's breath hitch and his dick twitched involuntarily as Stiles adjusted his grip.

“Oh, Der-bear, you're hung like a hippogriff. Your cock puts a centaur's to shame.”

Derek groaned and his hips jerked as Stiles placed a kiss on the weeping slit, his tongue flicking out to lick experimentally at the fluid.

“Mmmm, I always thought cum was supposed to taste gross, but I like yours.”

“I refuse to believe you of all people have never tasted your own cum.”

Stiles laughed and the change of air temperature around Derek's dick from his breath caused it to twitch again. “I just figured I was biased, since it was my own cum and all.”

Derek moaned and jerked his hips upward. “Stiles, you need to stop teasing me. Either put me in your mouth or lean back so I can fuck you, but for the love of God, please shut up.”

Taking his cue, Stiles took Derek into his mouth as far as he could without choking, swirling his tongue around the length and trying to keep his teeth away from the sensitive flesh. Once he got use to the sensation of his mouth being so full and intermittently swallowing his own drool so he didn't drown in it, he became more relaxed and started moving his mouth up and down on Derek's cock, stroking the length of the werewolf's member that he couldn't fit in his mouth. A few moments later, Stiles tried to take more into his mouth and ended up choking and tears sprang to his eyes. Stiles eased off and flicked his tongue around the hard muscle as his nose began to run. He frowned as he realized he wasn't exactly a natural at this and the angle sucked. Derek;s cock was fucking wide and slightly longer than average and drool was already pooling around his lips. How was this sexy and enjoyable in any way?

He pulled off and wiped at his mouth. “I need a box of Popsicles and a bunch of bananas before I do that again. I suck at sucking you off.” He rubbed his jaw in irritation. “The only time gay guys have complimented me is by saying I have a mouth they'd love to fuck. And I suck at it!”

Derek rubbed the teen's shoulder and squeezed his neck gently. “We can work on it, okay? You have a wicked tongue and a decent grip. Once you do it a couple times, it'll get easier.”

Stiles huffed and flopped onto his back, kicking his legs out so they encased Derek's. “I'm not admitting defeat. This is just hiatus. I will get better at that. Soon you'll be coming in my mouth, I'll be so good at it.”

“I have no doubts in your abilities, Stiles. I appreciate the gesture, but for now, let me take care of you, okay?”

The younger male couldn't pout when Derek was looking at him with that level of adoration, lust and hunger in his eyes. Stiles nodded slowly and pulled his legs toward him, keeping them spread so he could bare himself to the older male.

“Hm, you're so tight. Your hole is already all closed up again.” Derek flicked open the top of the lube and smeared the excess around Stiles rim, causing it to flutter as the cold, slick fluid made contact. He added one finger that was easily sucked inside of Stiles' hot sheath and quickly added a second. “Oooh, no, it's still open. Just gonna take a sec. Okay?”

“M'fine. Just get me ready so you can fuck me already, Derek. I want your cock in me now, please.” Stiles' breath stuttered as Derek added a third finger and began spreading them and scissoring inside of him.

“Don't worry, I'll be in you soon enough. And then, when I come, I'm gonna mark you.” Derek bent forward and nipped at Stiles' jugular. “Right here, where everyone can see who you belong to.”

“Oh, fuck, Derek. Won't that be obvious?”

“That's the point, dear.” The older male snarked as he twisted his wrist and flexed his fingers, lightly bumping the teen's prostate. “It'll scar after a few days and it'll fade quickly, but it'll still be visible and any werewolves you might come across will see it plain as day and will know you're off limits.”

“Won't they be able to - _AH!_ \- smell you o-on me?” Stiles moaned as Derek hit his prostate a little more intensely.

“Oh, definitely, but the mark proves you're more than a favorite fuck.”

Stiles rolled his eyes as best he could when they kept rolling to the back of his head. “Fuck, Derek. Please stop talking and just fuck me already. I can't take this much longer.”

Derek growled and pumped his fingers a few more times before withdrawing. Stiles moaned and watched as the werewolf squeezed more lube onto his hand and began to fist his cock, making sure every inch was coated. Stiles swallowed thickly and closed his eyes, heart pounding in anticipation. He yelped as his lower body was jerked and his legs reflexively wrapped around Derek's hips. He felt the older male's hand gripping his waist and the tip of his cock against his hole.

“Stiles, eyes on me.”

Whiskey brown orbs met light green and heat flared through Stiles' bloodstream as Derek's cock filled him with one slow, solid thrust.

“Oh, fuck, Der. Fuckfuckfuck!”

Derek growled in response and stopped as soon as his cock was fully inside the teen. “Tell me when you're ready for me to move.”

Stiles whined and shifted his hips, trying to get use to the odd, full feeling. He'd never felt this kind of stretch and burn and it was hard to adjust.

“Distract me.” He mumbled, his voice a little breathy and higher than usual.

Derek bent over Stiles' torso and kissed him, probing the human's lips apart with his agile tongue. Stiles whimpered into the werewolf's mouth, flicking his own tongue to greet Derek's. He wrapped his arms around the older male, tugging him closer, desperate for more. Derek pulled back a bit, but not away from the teen. He began kissing and nipping at Stiles' jaw and made his way down the teen's neck, sucking bruises into the fair, mole-riddled skin along the way.

Stiles felt Derek's hand trailing over his abs and up his chest before a fingertip lazily circled his nipple and swiftly and unexpectedly pinched, pulling a half-moan, half-yelp from the human. Derek's lips enclosed around the nipple, his teeth grazing the sore bud, earning him another moan. Stiles' hips jerked involuntarily and his rim clenched around the werewolf's cock, but it had felt so good and Stiles was so ready to do this. Ready for Derek to tear him apart and slowly piece him back together again.

“Fuck, Stiles. Are you ready?” Derek asked huskily, seemingly reading his mind.

The werewolf tongued the teen's other nipple, nibbling the bud until it filled with blood before releasing it and giving Stiles the chance to experience a perfect combination of pleasure and pain.

“Yes, Derek. God, yes. Please, fuck me.”

Derek pressed a quick, heated kiss to his lips before pulling back and settling his hands on Stiles' hips. The werewolf pulled out, so, so slowly that Stiles' hips thrust down, trying to take him back in, but Derek's grip was too tight and so in control that it drove Stiles crazy.

“Fuck, Derek, fucking fuck me already, please! I can't take it!”

Derek ignored the younger man and began to thrust his cock into him at the same glacial pace. It seemed like minutes before the older male bottomed out and started to withdraw his cock, setting a tortuously slow pace that was driving Stiles insane.

“Derek, please, I'm begging you. I'm not going to break and you feel so good I can't take it. You're driving me crazy. Please, please, please fuck me!”

“Stiles, I'm trying not to wolf out on you. Give me a few more minutes, please and then I'll fuck you til you can't breathe. Just...just give me a minute. Your hormones and scent are driving _me_ crazy.”

Stiles nodded and tried to be patient. He slipped his hand around his own cock, but Derek batted it away and grabbed both his wrists in one hand and bent forward until Stiles' arms were stretched over his head and against the headboard.

“Deep breath.”

The teen inhaled deeply only to gasp and choke as Derek's cock shoved into him and a brutal pace was set. His hips began slamming into Stiles' and the teen was overwhelmed with so many sensations and feelings as Derek's cock thrust in and out in long, hard strokes. It felt like it was punching into him and he can barely breathe, but it felt so good Stiles that wasn't going to complain. Not that he'd be able to, even if he had wanted to. Every breath he managed to take was filled with gasps, moans, whines and grunts. He could hear Derek echoing him, though, so the teen knew he wasn't alone; they were both sucked up in the earth-shattering sensations.

“God, Stiles, you're still so tight.” They both groaned as Stiles' rim tightened reflexively around Derek's cock as it brushed against his prostate.

“There! Oh! Yes!” Stiles hissed as Derek raised his hips and began _ramming_ against his prostate, jerking Stiles' body with every thrust and tightening his grip on the younger male's wrists.

“Please, Der, touch my cock. I'm so close.”

It was embarrassing just how close Stiles was to the edge when they had just begun a few minutes ago. The teen hoped Derek would fuck him through this orgasm and into another, since it seemed the werewolf had more stamina then he did.

“Me, too.” The werewolf huffed out, his teeth clenched and Stiles could see that the were' was holding back, trying not to shift.

It was obvious Derek's getting tired already, so Stiles demanded that they switch positions. Derek easily flipped them over, so quickly that Stiles gets a little dizzy. Miraculously, the werewolf managed to stay inside the teen. Stiles settled his recently freed hands on Derek's hips and shifted his hips, getting use to the position and thinking about how he would manage this. He lifted himself up before dropping back down on the were's hard, thick cock, never once allowing the hard member to exit his body.

“Oh, fuck yes.” The new angle was deeper and pressed against Stiles' prostate completely; Derek's tip flush against the human's sweet spot. Stiles clenched down around Derek, bringing the older male closer to the brink with him.

“You look so good on my cock. Fuck, Stiles.”

Stiles moaned, and began to rotate his hips in a circular motion. He rose up before meeting Derek's upward thrust as the teen lowered himself again. They quickly fell into a rhythm and Stiles' legs were beginning to cramp and his cock had begun leaking and dripped precum. However, the younger man's erection tapered off since he was focusing so much on the new position, and the lack of accuracy in riding Derek in a way that allows the were's erection to hit his prostate everytime. He's just not quite at the edge yet. Stiles pushed forward, trying to get Derek inside him even deeper and moaned as the werewolf's balls slapped against his ass.

“Fuck, Stiles. So...close.” Derek began thrusting wildly up into him and their movements became out of sync, but Stiles' was getting close too. The teen whimpered as a particularly rough thrust punched Derek's cock into his prostate and Stiles came.

Derek was still pistoning his hips and ramming his cock against Stiles' prostate and it's made the teen's head spin, but he begged Derek for more. Stiles tiredly twisted his hips and flexed his rim around the older male's length, trying to coax an orgasm from his soon-to-be-mate.

The werewolf grunted and it feels like his cock is expanding as the older male's balls tighten and push painfully against Stiles' rim until it gives away closes around Derek's entire length and testicles, locking away inside of the younger teen. Stiles gasped and choked on air at the overwhelmingly full feeling, and with an actual howl, Derek came inside him. The werewolf's cock and balls twitched inside his human mate, emptying his heavy sac full of seed deep into Stiles' bowls in hot, languid bursts.

The older male pulled him close and his canines glinted in the candlelight. Stiles knew what was coming and bared his neck, a moan escaping his lips as Derek's teeth closed around his jugular. It caused the teen's cock to twitch in horrified anticipation. Stiles knew Derek could possibly bite too deeply and Stiles would be bleeding out before he knew it, but he trusted Derek and knew the werewolf would never do that to him. Well, not anymore, anyway. The pinch of sharp pain lingered as Derek pulled away and Stiles swayed, leaning over Derek's chest, and stared blearily into the other man's eyes.

“Are you alright?” Derek mumbled, as he raised a hand and ran it gently through the teen's sweaty hair.

Stiles groaned as the werewolf's hot cum continued to pulse in thick spurts, coating his insides, and it felt like Derek's cock was _growing_. Stiles couldn't hold himself up anymore and collapsed against Derek's chest, his limp cock trapped between them, smearing his cum over their lower stomachs as Derek's cock pumped him full.

“Are you...d-did you _knot_ me?” Stiles whispered, his mouth dry and his still lips raw from kissing.

Derek's cock twitched inside him once again, and another spurt of cum lethargically gushed into the teen's tight channel.

“I guess so.”

“You _guess_ so?!”

“Stiles, I didn't know it was possible. I've never heard of werewolves being able to knot. We're not actual wolves!”

Stiles shifted his hips and they both moaned as Derek's knot caught on his rim.

“Well, you are a full-shift werewolf and I'm your mate, so it must be another one of those 'special circumstances' things.” Stiles concluded logically, amazing himself with his ability to think clearly after the best sex of his life. Which was also the only sex of his life, but still, it counted.

Derek huffed and pressed a kiss to the top of the younger male's head. “I'll ask Deaton tomorrow. Just try to relax and wait it out.”

Stiles rolled his eyes before letting them slip shut. “Easy for you to say. You're not the one with a supernatural cock and knot up your ass.”

“I can't believe I actually knotted you. Are you okay with this?”

“It's a little too late to be asking me this since your knot is already in my ass and you're _still_ cumming,” Stiles moaned out, “Now hush, I'm trying to relax.”

The werewolf didn't respond and Stiles drifted to the edge of sleep, lulled by the deep, even breaths and steady rise and fall of Derek's chest, which was accompanied by the strong, steady and comforting beat of the werewolf's heart.

He awoke when he felt Derek's cock slip out of him, followed by a small amount of cum.

“Gross.” He whined as his face bloomed hot with humiliation.

Derek shushed him and rolled them off the bed. Stiles groaned as he was carried into the bathroom. The werewolf turned the light on with his elbow and set Stiles down carefully, and started running hot water in the tub.

“Just relax, Stiles. I'm gonna change the sheets and I'll be right back. Do you need help getting in the tub?”

The teen shook his head tiredly as he leaned back against the wall as he waited for the tub to fill up. Stiles blushed hotly as a warm, thick glob of cum trickled from his ass and began to run down the back of his thighs.

Derek's nostrils flared and he leaned down next to Stiles' hips and gathered the cum onto his fingers before he stood up again. Stiles watched, his mouth dropping open in shock as Derek brought his fingers to his lips and licked the cum off them.

“Oh, fuck, Der,” Stiles' spent cock twitched feebly with interest. “That's so hot.”

The older male smirked and pressed his lips to Stiles' in a quick, chaste kiss. “Next time, I think I'll fuck your ass with my tongue once my cock's through with you.”

Stiles moaned and leaned more heavily against the wall as his brain provided explicit mental footage of the act Derek described. He glanced at the sink and mirror across from him and imagined Derek fucking him against the counter, his hand in his hair and forcing Stiles to keep eye contact through the mirror as the werewolf pounded against his prostate and made him spurt across the sink cupboard. Stiles closed his eyes and swallowed a groan as his cock twitched feebly at the mental image.

He heard the water shut off and allowed himself to be guided toward the tub. “I can wash myself, Der. Go take care of the bed. I'm not getting clean just to sleep in dried cum.”

The werewolf chuckled as he left the room, leaving the door open so he could keep an eye on Stiles in case he need help.

Stiles groaned as he lowered his aching body into the tub. He rested until he felt relaxed enough to move and began washing his body slowly and clumsily. The teen tried to finger out as much cum as he could and hissed as the soap met with his sensitive rim, which he was sure was raw, red and puffy. Fuck, he wasn't going to try that again. If Derek wasn't able to get STDs, there was no way Stiles would catch anything from him, so he didn't bother to try to expel all of the cum, it was near impossible anyway and he was so tired.

He shampooed and conditioned his hair, turning on the overhead shower faucet to rinse out the bubbles, so he wouldn't duck his head under the water, where stringy wisps of cum floated beneath the surface.

The human finished washing himself, and pulled the plug to let the water drain before easing himself out of the tub and heading over to the towels. He dried himself off and ran a towel over his head to absorb as much water as possible before throwing it at the hamper outside the bathroom door.

Stiles shuffled toward Derek's bed and fell face first onto the clean, cool sheets. He basked in the feeling of feeling so clean and enjoying equally clean sheets before he inched his way up toward the pillows. He heard Derek enter the room and thanked him as he was covered up with another sheet.

“I'm going to shower and then I'll be back.”

“I'll probably be asleep.” Stiles yawned as he rubbed his face into his pillow.

He felt Derek press a kiss to his lips and was asleep before his mate pulled away.


	7. The World Has Its Shine, But I Would Drop It On A Dime

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter and it's title was inspired by the song "The World Has It's Shine, But I Would Drop It On A Dime" by **Cobra Starship**
> 
> Sorry this took so long for me to post, guys. Originally, I had Scott making a much earlier appearance and it just threw off the whole chapter and there was this huge thing with Deaton...so after scrapping the entire chapter I started over and once I got over not forcing the other chapter to work out, this came much easier. Sorry it's taken so long and thank you all for being patient, sticking around and, as always, for reading, commenting, bookmarking and giving kudos. You're all awesome!

###  **The World Has It's Shine, But I Would Drop It On A Dime For You**

Stiles woke up slowly and a bit uncomfortably. He was sticky with sweat, had dried and fresh drool in streaks running down his cheek and his bladder was about to burst. Stiles wiggled around, trying to dislodge Derek's arm from his waist, but the werewolf only grunted and buried his face deeper into the back of Stiles' neck, causing the hair there to rise with every exhale.

“Derek,” Stiles whined, his voice rough with sleep and his mouth and tongue dry. He coughed as he tried to swallow, but all of his excess saliva was currently drying on his face.

The werewolf grumbled low in his chest, vibrating against Stiles' back and making him roll his eyes in a mixture of fondness and exasperation.

“Get up.” He coughed out, tugging at Derek's arm.

“No.”

Stiles jolted in surprise and then elbowed the man. “Jesus, you scared me. I thought you were deep asleep.”

“Nobody could sleep with the way you toss and turn. Hence why my arm is pinning you to the bed. Good thing it worked, otherwise I'd have to use duct tape.”

“Ha-ha, you're so funny,” Stiles dead-panned, digging his elbow into Derek's abdomen. “Now can you un-pin me? I gotta go.”

Derek growled lowly, tightening his arm around the teen's slim waist. “Go where?”

“To the bathroom! Where else would I go at the asscrack of dawn?”

The werewolf chuckled and lifted his arm, giving Stiles the chance to run to the bathroom, though a spasm in his lower back and the ache in his ass made it more of a limping stride.

He didn't bother shutting the door, just yanked up the toilet lid and seat and did his business, sighing with relief as the sharp need in his bladder eased.

“It's almost 10 o'clock, Stiles. Nowhere near dawn.” Stiles jumped, thankfully though, he had finished his business and was about to flush.

“Do you always watch your bed partners pee?” He snapped, walking toward the sink to wash his hands.

He caught Derek's reflection in the mirror and couldn't stop the dopey grin that took over his mouth at the sight of Derek's bedhead.

“Obviously not. You're a special case.” The werewolf smirked and walked past Stiles to use the toilet.

Stiles couldn't take his eyes off Derek. He couldn't believe he had sex with Derek. That they were mated. And he'd been _knotted_!

“Do you always check out guys' dicks when they're pissing?” Derek asked, hip-checking Stiles to the side so he could wash his own hands.

“Sometimes.” Stiles admitted, recovering smoothly as he dodged the towel the werewolf threw at him. “I'm a curious guy!”

Derek rolled his eyes and walked past Stiles into the bedroom. “Any chance your curiosity regarding other guys' dicks will go away now that you've been fucked and we're mated?”

Stiles' smirk widened when Derek glanced at him, “Oh, no, Der-bear, I'm going to look at every cock and then look the guy in the eye and smirk at them, just like this, because I know their cocks will never compare to yours and isn't that such a shame?”

The werewolf's green eyes darkened a bit as Stiles walked toward him and reflexively caught him when the teen tripped over a discarded pair of jeans lying in the middle of the floor.

“Damnit. I killed the mood.” The younger male sighed as he regained his footing.

Derek chuckled lowly and pressed a kiss to the top of Stiles' head. “It takes more than that to kill my mood.”

Stiles smiled up at his mate and felt a rush of emotions spread through him. He was happy, protected, safe and excited. The feeling of safe and protected hadn't really occurred to Stiles before, even though his dad was the sheriff and he knew he was mostly safe at home, it never made him feel consciously safe. And Derek was his _mate_. He wasn't going to leave him and if he ever tried, Stiles would rip the werewolf's throat out with his own human teeth. And smack him upside the head with a baseball bat. And possibly withhold sex, but that would also punish himself and he wasn't really a masochist.

“You're lost in your head again.”

Stiles blinked and shrugged. “Sorry. It's hard for me to focus first thing in the morning, especially when I haven't had my medication yet.”

Derek nodded. “Why don't you go take your medicine and I'll grab us some clothes?”

The teen pouted as he walked toward the bedroom door. “You'll never pick something I want to wear. Why can't we just be naked?”

“We can be naked later!”

“Promises, promises!” Stiles shouted over his shoulder as he made his way down the spiraling staircase.

“You don't need to shout, I can hear you perfectly!”

“Stupid werewolf hearing.” Stiles muttered breathily.

“Heard that!”

“Shut up!”

Stiles took his Adderall and popped some Pop-Tarts in the toaster and grabbed a couple of napkins; he did not feel like washing a dish just because it had a couple measly breakfast pastry crumbs on it. “Are you coming down soon? We need to talk!”

“I'll be right down. You want your phone? It keeps going off.”

“Shit. Yeah, thanks.”

Stiles jumped as the Pop-Tarts were ejected from the toaster and put them on the napkin before popping more in. He poured himself a tall glass of milk and a small glass of orange juice for Derek. The werewolf bought the expensive kind, with pulp and not made from concentrate. After he had tried it, Stiles wasn't sure he could ever drink regular orange juice again.

His Pop-Tarts were done a few moments before Derek joined him in the kitchen, ignoring the offered breakfast pastries as he set Stiles' phone down a safe difference from their breakfast and crowded against Stiles, pushing the younger male's body against the counter.

“What're you doing?” Stiles asked, slightly amused and partly aroused. It wasn't unusual for him to sport a semi in the morning, but with Derek around, his cock was more than a little interested.

He didn't get a verbal response, but Derek bent his head and pressed his nose to Stiles' neck, inhaling deeply before turning him around and kissing him.

Stiles eagerly returned the kiss, running his hands over Derek's bare shoulders and clasping around his neck. Derek pulled back, though, and tilted Stiles' head up slowly before pressing a kiss to the mating mark on the pale teen's jugular.

“You _would_ mark me on a pleasure point.” Stiles remarked quietly, bending his head and pressing a kiss to his mate's pectorals.

“Are you sore?”

“What?”

Derek stepped away and gestured vaguely toward Stiles. “Are you sore? From last night.”

“Oh.” Stiles shrugged and turned back to grab the Pop-Tarts. “Not really.” He paused, thinking for a minute as he walked into the living room. “I should be more sore then I feel, actually, now that you mention it.”

He turned back and Derek almost bumped into him, but stopped in time and didn't spill either of the drinks he carried.

“Before I fell asleep I took away some of your pain,” the werewolf explained, setting the drinks down on the coffee table. “You looked uncomfortable and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Stiles smiled and sat down on the couch. “You didn't have to do that, Derek. I can handle some pain.”

The werewolf glanced away and picked up the small pile of clothes sitting on the arm chair. “I know, Stiles, but I don't want you to be in pain because of me. Not if I can help it or do something about it.” He handed the clothes to Stiles. “Get dressed before you eat.”

“Yes, sir!” Stiles saluted, and stood to pull on the boxer briefs and ignored the shirt and shorts Derek had grabbed for him before plopping back down on the couch, patting the cushion next to him. “Sit with me?”

Derek sighed, but sat down next to him, taking a Pop-Tart from the napkin. “We need to get real food.” he flicked the napkin, “Are we out of clean plates?”

“I didn't feel like washing a plate just cause it gets crumbs on it.” Stiles explained, taking a bite of his pastry. “And I don't know what you're insinuating. I'm pretty sure we're not eating plastic.”

“You know what I mean.” Derek huffed. “And that cheese you bought? That's damn near plastic.”

“Okay, Mr.-Chemist-who-knows-the-exact-molecular-structure-of-Kraft-singles-cheese-and-is-a-snob-about-it.”

“Okay, Mr.-I-eat-like-a-13-year-old-and-I'm-proud-of-it.”

Stiles scoffed and shoved a large, dripping section of his Pop-Tart into his mouth. He moaned and swallowed quickly. “Diss my cheese, fine. But never insult Pop-Tarts.”

“Wouldn't dream of it.” Derek replied dryly as Stiles' phone chirped from the kitchen.

Derek swallowed before asking, “You gonna get that?”

Stiles shrugged. “After we're done eating. It's probably-” he froze. “Crap, oh crap.” He shoveled the last bit of his pastry in his mouth and jogged toward the kitchen.

“Whoa, 12 messages. I'm popular!” He singsonged, walking back into the living room.

“Ten bucks says they're all from Scott.”

“Nu-uh, one is probably from my dad.” Stiles said, swiping his thumb over the screen and smirking when he saw Derek dip his own Pop-Tart into Stiles' milk.

“I knew I'd convert you someday.”

The older male ignored him and continued to dunk the rest of his Pop-Tart while Stiles checked his messages.

“Crap,” the teen muttered, tapping out a reply to Scott. “Scott said he'll be here at 11:30 if I don't reply soon.”

Derek glanced toward the kitchen, but couldn't see the digital clock on the microwave from his position. “What time is it?”

“Almost 11 now.” Stiles replied to his dad's text with all caps, knowing his dad would get irritated at it.

“Hm, I'm surprised he didn't turn up here, barging in on us.”

Stiles set down his phone and snatched his milk back. “I told him to give me til noon to respond. Obviously, he got impatient.”

“Must've rubbed off on him.”

“Nah,” Stiles smirked and sent Derek a wink, “I only do that with you.”

Derek rolled his eyes and finished eating. He downed his orange juice and balled up the napkin, setting it inside his empty glass as Stiles finished off his milk.

“What did you want to talk about?”

“Huh?” Stiles wiped away the milk mustache and set his empty glass next to Derek's on the coffee table. He should really get coasters, too...

“When I was upstairs, you said you wanted to talk, remember?”

Stiles nodded, “Oh, yeah. Um...well, that was just, like, a random idea popped in my head and I wanted to ask you, but now, I don't know if I want to. I don't know if I want to ask you anymore.” He muttered, stumbling on his words.

Derek sat back and threw his arm over the back of the couch. Stiles didn't hesitate before pressing his side against Derek's and leaning back into his warm, muscular arm.

“Just tell me, Stiles.”

“Well, I just thought that maybe we should- or, you could get some more appliances? Like, your toaster burns everything if its not set on the correct dot and it ejects the stuff you put in it. That needs upgraded, okay? And I was going to suggest a toaster that has four toasty things, so I could make double the stuff in half the time.”

“Okay. We can get a new toaster.” Derek said slowly and Stiles could feel the older male staring at him. “Is that all?”

Stiles shifted so he could look at Derek more directly. “Not really. I guess...well, how much time would I be spending here? Like...do you want me to leave at a certain time? Cause I think we talked about it before, but I can't remember...but I think I mentioned that I get annoying and I'm best handled in small doses. And I don't want to piss you off or annoy you. You're kind of hard to read sometimes, you know? Like, right now, I'm rambling and you're just staring blankly at me. I don't _get that_. Are you killing me in your head or just wondering if I'm going to talk til I pass out or what?”

“I was waiting for you to take a breath.” Derek answered as Stiles paused to take a deep breath. “And I don't want you to stay here if you don't want to, but I thought you'd move in with me, if your dad lets you. Since the fever, I've regarded the loft as ours. You belong here as much as I do. But I know you're close to your dad, and you're still in school, so you don't have to move in or anything. It's up to you. And your dad.”

“You'd be okay with me moving in?” Stiles asked slowly, not sure if he'd understood. “Not like, keep a drawer, cause I have that already, but like, actually move some of my stuff into the loft? Like, for the foreseeable future?”

Derek nodded. “Yeah, if you want to. I'm not sure if your dad will be okay with that, especially since you're 17, so, a minor, and you've got school so I doubt your dad will let you stay here, but if he does, then yes, I'd like you to.”

Stiles nodded. “Yeah, he was okay with Malia staying over at our house, but I'm not sure if he'd be okay with me staying here.”

Derek tensed at the mention of his cousin. “Yeah, it's not quite the same situation.”

“I guess we better ask my dad, then.” Stiles clapped his hands and jumped to his feet. “I'm gonna go get dressed and then let's go to the station and talk to him real quick.”

“Now? Stiles, don't you think we should break this to him gently?”

Stiles was already halfway up the stairs. “Nah. Besides, he already knows a bit. Like, the part where I was suffering without you. Now we just have to explain the rest to him.”

“Wouldn't it be better to wait until he was off duty?”

Stiles could barely hear Derek as he pulled on his jeans and a Batman graphic tee. “No. He'll be irritated and exhausted by then. Better if we go now!” He darted into the bathroom and grabbed his toothbrush and toothpaste. “Can you put the glasses in the sink and rinse 'em real quick?”

He couldn't hear Derek's response, that he was sure involved grumbling about napkins as plates, which he ignored in favor of quickly brushing his teeth and fixing his hair. There was a distinction between bedhead and perfectly messy 'just-fucked' hair and he wasn't succeeding in the latter.

“I need to brush my teeth, too.” Derek said, making Stiles jump and choke on a mouthful of foam.

The teen spluttered and spat/coughed out the excess foam and rinsed out his mouth before straightening up and glaring at his mate. “Not cool, dude.” He rasped, scowling and continuing to fix his hair.

“Don't call me 'dude'.”

Stiles let Derek have the last word and looked for a pair of socks. He knew they'd recently done laundry and there was no way he was already out of clean pairs. Maybe they'd gotten mixed with Derek's somehow, though. He bent over to search Derek's sock and underwear drawer, pawing through the neatly paired balled up socks for a pair of his own.

He could hear Derek behind him, but ignored him, shutting the drawer with a huff. “Have you seen my socks?”

Derek pressed up against his back, resting his hands on Stiles' hips and holding him tightly, but not constricting the teen.

“No. Did you leave them in the utility room?” Derek asked, the puff of his breath ruffling Stiles' hair.

“I don't think so...maybe?” Stiles squirmed. “What're you doing?”

“You were bent over going through the drawer and I was picturing bending you over the dresser and fucking you.”

“Fuck, Derek,” Stiles breathed, leaning back against his mate, catching his eyes in the mirror fixed to the wall over the dresser.

“If it were wide enough to balance your weight you'd be over it and watching me fuck you in the mirror.”

“Add a wider dresser to the list. And more lube.” Stiles murmured, as he arched his back and pressed his ass firmly against Derek's hard bulge.

“The kitchen counters are wide enough. So's the coffee table.”

“Oh, fuck. Derek, yes.”

Stiles unbuttoned and lowered the zipper on his jeans so he could slip his hand into his boxer briefs, but Derek stopped him once his fly was down.

“You don't want to do that.” The older male whispered against Stiles' neck.

“Yes I do!”

“Mmmm, what if we have a wager?”

“A wager? Like, a bet?”

“Yeah. If you cum before I do, then we wait to talk to your dad until he's off duty and well-rested.”

Stiles frowned, considering the offer. “And if you cum first?”

“Then we go now, like you want.”

The teen mulled it over for a few moments. “I'm not sure its fair. You have way more self-control than I do and my libido is nonexistent. I could cum right now just thinking about you fucking me.”

Derek was quiet and Stiles took the opportunity to admire the picture they made in the mirror. His hair was still messed up while Derek's was perfectly styled and both of their eyes were dark with lust. Stiles' neck had a smattering of red love bites and his mating mark stood out proudly amongst the smaller bites like a badge of honor. He was sure his hips were littered with fingertip-shaped bruises and probably a few random hickies as well.

“First offer still stands. Whoever cums first loses.”

“But you have better control!”

Derek hummed as he nibbled at the back of Stiles' neck. “Then consider this your first lesson in an exercise of self-control.”

“Fine!” Stiles snapped, whipping around so quickly he surprised the older male and lunged at him, attacking the button and zipper on Derek's jeans with fumbling fingers, but quickly loosened them and pulled down his mate's pants as he kicked off his own, leaving them both in their boxer briefs.

Stiles lowered himself to his knees and stared at the bulge in Derek's briefs. It was quite a large bulge and Derek's cock rose right in front of Stiles' eyes, a trail of precum wetting and darkening the material on its upward path. Stiles didn't think as he followed the wet trail with the tip of his tongue, slowly reaching the head of Derek's clothed cock and mouthing at it, sucking a wet patch into the boxer briefs.

“ _Fuck_ , Stiles.”

The pale human hummed in satisfaction and pulled back to trace his tongue down the length of Derek's cock and mouth at his balls, soaking the material of his mate's boxer briefs with his spit. Stiles brought his hands to Derek's ass and dug his fingers in, pulling the male closer.

“Fuck. Stiles...hold on.”

Stiles pulled back and looked up into his mate's eyes. “Nope. I'm winning this.”

He pulled down Derek's boxers and caught his mate's cock with his mouth, quickly letting saliva pool around the warm, pulsing member and then pulled back to his spit run down the length of the werewolf's cock. He blew on the tip and it jumped, bopping him lightly on the nose, causing a light, surprised giggle to slip from Stiles before he recovered and took Derek back into his mouth.

He hummed in appreciation as Derek tangled his fingers through his hair and tugged just a little too roughly, but the combination of pain and pleasure made Stiles' own cock jump in his briefs. He glanced up the length of Derek's body and took in the sight of the werewolf with his head tilted back, his Adam's apple bobbing as he panted.

Stiles swirled his tongue around the head of Derek's cock, which resulted in Derek jerking on Stiles' hair. He winced and scraped his bottom teeth against the underside of the werewolf's cock in warning. He finally grew his hair out and he didn't want to end up with a bald spot just because Derek didn't have the amount of self-control Stiles thought he had.

Stiles lost himself in the feeling of the blow job. He was determined to make Derek cum first and succeed at giving head. He just hoped Derek wouldn't knot his mouth because he did not want to take a trip to the hospital and potentially have to explain to Melissa how he'd dislocated his jaw.

The teen spluttered around the thick length in his mouth as Derek's hips twitched, forcing his cock further down Stiles' throat. Instead of pulling off, Stiles focused on breathing deeply through his nose as he swallowed around the thick cock lodged in his throat. It felt really weird, like the time he had taken a large bite of bread and tried to swallow it down, but it got stuck because his mouth was too dry. Not that Derek's cock was at all bread-like, but the sensation of swallowing futilely was the same.

He pulled off until just the head was in his mouth and swirled his tongue around the uncut head before pointing his tongue and driving it into the weeping slit, tasting the slightly bitter precum. The taste wasn't necessarily bad, but it wasn't as delicious as porn stars made it seem. Derek's hips jerked forward again, shoving deeper into Stiles' mouth and bringing him back to his current objective.

Although, remembering porn helped as he tried to copy the moves he'd watched for hours in preparation of this moment. Stiles ran his tongue around the length of Derek's cock as he swallowed it down til the head bumped the back of his throat and activated his gag reflex. He began to cough and tried to swallow down the urge to vomit and the sensation must've been too much for Derek because suddenly Stiles was swallowing down thick, hot spurts of cum so he wouldn't choke.

Stiles pulled away enough to swallow the steadily flowing cum a bit easier and so he was no longer gagging around Derek's length. He actually liked the taste of his mate's thick cum. It was a little salty, but not bitter like precum , and he liked the _warmth_ of it. Derek's cum tasted a lot different than Stiles' own, but he actually favored the werewolf's. For one, there was a lot more of it and it was slightly thicker and more substantial than his own. Also, it was Derek's and Stiles would be the only one to ever taste it again, which made it a little sweeter.

The human wasn't sure what to do now. Should he just get up and brush his teeth, or was that rude? His jaw ached and his knees were screaming in discomfort, tingling with the beginnings of pins and needles. His eyes were watering and his nose was beginning to run, so he wiped at it, still rolling his tongue around his mouth, savoring the musky flavor. Maybe brushing his teeth would be best...

Derek began pulling Stiles up and into his arms before the teen could stand on his own feet. He eagerly kissed the younger male, causing Stiles' head to spin, but quickly regained his equilibrium and returned the kiss just as enthusiastically. He nipped playfully at Derek's bottom lip and slipped his tongue into his mate's mouth, sharing the lingering after taste of the older male's essence.

Derek palmed at the teen's cock through his briefs. “Want me to return the favor?” He asked roughly, even though _he_ wasn't the one who'd been getting his mouth fucked moments ago.

“Fuck, yes, please.” Stiles croaked, sounding so absolutely wrecked that Derek's control slipped enough for his eyes to flash.

“Holy fuck! Derek!” Stiles screeched, his throat aching at the pitch, but his surprise overruling the pain. “Your eyes are red!”

“What?” Derek stepped away and looked at the mirror over the dresser, but his eyes were green now. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths before opening his eyes, which widened comically when he saw they were indeed red.

“How the hell did that happen?”

Stiles walked up to his mate and they stared into each other's eyes through the mirror. “Is this another side effect of being mates? Like, when a full-shift werewolf bonds with their mate they become an alpha?”

Derek shook his head slowly, blinking a few times as he adjusted to regular human vision again. “I don't think so. That would give too many werewolves the opportunity to become alphas. And you know you're either born an alpha or you kill an alpha and take their status.”

“Unless you're a true alpha, like Scott.” Stiles reminded the older male as he sat down on the edge of the bed, waving Derek over to join him. “And it could be a side effect of the bonding. You said that werewolves having a mate that requires a bond are rare and were considered fairy tales." Stiles sighed and rubbed at his still-watering eyes. "What if this is all circumstantial?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we thought you became a full-shift werewolf because your wolf found it's mate, like, your true soulmate. Uh, me." He blushed and huffed out a breath as he forced himself to focus, since his medicine was taking so long to kick in this morning. "So, if that was a common thing, we'd know about it, or you would've, at least, I think, growing up in a house full of werewolves and all. _But_ what if all of this is tied together? You become a full-shift werewolf when you meet your soul mate. And since you're the last of your family, the son of alpha Talia Hale,the last of her blood, you get a second chance at being an alpha?” Stiles shook his head. “I don't know. I'm just theorizing here.”

Derek shrugged and scrubbed at his face. “I have no idea.”

“This...this is kind of overwhelming. How are you _not_ freaking out right now?” Stiles asked, feeling his own pulse quicken and his heart picking up speed.

“Deaton already said this is rare and he barely knows anything about it. We may never know what caused it.” Derek said as he sat next to Stiles and began rubbing his hand up and down the teen's back soothingly. “And I'm keeping calm because you're losing control. It's going to be okay, Stiles. We'll figure it out.”

“How?” Stiles asked, his voice cracking. “We have to tell my dad what's happened and you're an alpha again and Scott's a true alpha, so how does that work? Two alphas in one town? Are you gonna fight over territory? Do you have to rebuild a pack now?”

“Hey,” Derek spoke up, pulling Stiles into his arms and onto his lap. “Calm down. We'll handle this, one thing at a time.”

Stiles was quiet, trying to process everything and being cuddled by the big, bad _alpha_ Derek Hale.

“I think it's time we talk to Deaton.” Stiles sighed in defeat.

Derek hummed thoughtfully before saying, “We're going to the station first.”

“What, why?”

“We've got to tell your dad about us and discuss future living arrangements.”

“Really? What changed your mind?”

Derek rolled his eyes. “You won, Stiles. That was the deal.”

“Okay, yeah, but I think finding out you're an alpha again trumps telling my dad about us.”

“No, I think once we get this out of the way you'll calm down a bit more. And we don't need to go to Deaton, Stiles. Scott may trust him and value his opinion and advice, but he doesn't know anything about this. And even if he does, I'm not in the mood to bend over backwards to wheedle it out of him.”

“My hero. Deaton drives me nuts with his cryptic 'I'm-just-a-simple-small-town-vet-but-I-know-everything-about-the-supernatural-but-I-refuse-to-be-helpful' routine.”

Derek nodded in agreement and promptly stood up with Stiles still in his arms. The teen yelped and kicked out while flinging his arms around the werewolf's neck.

“What're you doing?!”

Derek flashed him a bright, white smile. “We're a little dirty. I figured we'd shower and then go talk to your dad. Unless you want to shower by yourself?”

Stiles shook his head quickly, smirking up at his mate. “To the shower!”

**~ ~ ~**

“Hey, Stiles, Derek, what brings you guys here?” Jordan Parrish asked with a smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle.

Stiles smiled crookedly at the deputy, stepping out of Derek's personal bubble, unsure if Derek was actually ready for people to know he and Stiles were together, not to mention, mates. Telling his dad was one thing, it was the proper and courteous thing to do. Telling the deputy and having the department find out before he could tell his own dad was another story.

“Hey, Parrish. Not much, Derek and I just need to talk to my dad. Is he around?”

The young deputy's smile faltered and he glanced around before asking in a low voice, “Does this have to do with something supernatural?”

Stiles shook his head and began to walk toward his dad's office. “Nah, not this time. This is...personal.” He winced at his choice of words. That wasn't subtle at all.

“Wait, you and Hale?” Jordan laughed. “You're going to come out to your dad while he's on duty? And armed?”

Stiles laughed sarcastically and flipped the deputy off. “Bite me, Parrish.” He mumbled as he knocked on his dad's door.

Parrish laughed harder, “Looks like Derek already did.”

Stiles poked Derek's side. “You could stick up for me, you know.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “And ruin your sitcom banter? No thanks.”

Stiles jiggled the doorknob. “What the hell? He's locked it again?”

“Common practice when I leave the station. Prevents hooligans and nosy teenagers from breaking in. Usually.” A familiar voice behind them answered.

“Dad! Just the man I was looking for!” Stiles said, whipping around to face his father. “Can we get in there and talk?” He asked, jerking a thumb toward the closed office. “Got something to tell you.”

His dad sighed and walked past Stiles and Derek to unlock the door. “What the hell happened between dinner on Sunday and now?” He gestured for the two males to enter the office before him.

“Something very important and life-changing.” Stiles said, ignoring Jordan laughing as his dad shut the door behind them.

“More supernatural business?” The sheriff guessed, glancing at Derek.

“Not this time, sir. This is more personal.” Derek replied.

Well, that was a relief. Now he knew Derek would actually take part in this conversation instead of leaving Stiles to explain.

“Aw, hell.” His dad turned toward Stiles. “Are you a werewolf now?” The sheriff asked, a frown marring his face and his eyes darkening.

“What? No! Why would you think that?” Stiles asked, flailing his arms.

The sheriff pointed at Stiles. “That bite on your neck.” His dad's frown deepened. "Well, the biggest bite on your neck." He gave Derek a hard look, which Derek placidly returned.

“O-oh.” Stiles rubbed at the mating mark nervously. “Well, that's why we're here, yeah, but I'm not a werewolf, dad. Or any other supernatural creature. I promise.”

His dad sat back in his chair, but kept his narrowed and guarded eyes on them. “Then start explaining.”

“Well, remember when I got really, really sick and then went into a coma and then magically got better?” Stiles took a breath when his dad nodded. “That was because, uh...well, I needed Derek. Because he was the cure.”

His dad frowned and looked to the silent werewolf. “You had the cure?”

“No, Sheriff Stilinski. Stiles got sick because I left town and got better when I got back because he is my mate and being together cured him because we were no longer denying the bond. The mating bond.”

Stiles leaned forward and stared at his dad as he processed the situation.

“I didn't know you could mate.”

“It's rare and no one knows why it happened. Mates are considered rare and just rumors even among the supernatural world, sir. I had no idea that leaving town would affect Stiles. I thought it would only hurt me because I'm a werewolf. I figured Stiles would be fine since he's human.”

“So you left without telling my son what was happening?”

“Dad, he had no idea what was happening, either. We both were blindsided by this, okay? And we worked everything out. We solidified the bond so neither of us should go into any comas or die anytime soon.”

Stiles' dad shook his head. “What does that mean? What'd you have to do to 'solidify the bond'?” He leaned forward and pointed a finger at them. “Are you two in a relationship?”

Stiles exhaled loudly. “Yes, dad. Derek and I are together.”

The room was quiet and Stiles squirmed in his chair. He wasn't sure how his dad would react, but he wished he would process everything a bit quicker. The waiting was driving him crazy. What would they do if his dad tried to separate them? Obviously Stiles would be sneaking out or sneaking Derek in, but what if his dad took drastic measures and shot Derek? Since they had mated, Stiles would live through Derek dying, but that didn't mean that he _wanted_ to.

“Sir, could you please tell us what you're thinking? Stiles is going to combust if you don't say something soon.”

Stiles' dad turned his eyes on his son and then looked at Derek. “How do you know that?”

Derek shrugged and shifted in his chair, reaching over to place his hand on Stiles' knee, a move that didn't go unnoticed by the sheriff, but he didn't speak up, so Derek began to rub his thumb over his mate's jean-clad kneecap.

“I can sense his stress. Also, his breathing pattern is elevated, so is his heart rate and he fidgets more. Well, more than usual.” Derek explained softly.

“Ugh, Stiles,” the sheriff groaned and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his face. “You just can't give your old man a break.”

Stiles winced and swallowed thickly. “I'm sorry, dad.”

“Excuse me, _sir_ , but this is _not_ Stiles' fault. This isn't anyone's fault. Although, if you wanted to blame someone, you could blame me, since I'm the reason he's my mate.”

“No! This is not your fault! Being mates isn't a typical thing and we had no idea this could even happen. It's nobody's fault. No one is to blame.”

“Alright, guys, calm down.” Stiles' dad spoke up. “Look, I've got to get back to work here. I'll be done around 8 tonight and shouldn't have to come back in until 4 am tomorrow.” He gestured toward them. “Let's have dinner tonight and we can talk then. That gives me time to think about this mess and you can calm down, Stiles. I'm not going to shoot your boyfriend.”

The _yet_ was unspoken, but obviously implied.

He turned toward Derek, “Well, I won't shoot unless you give me a reason to. You leave him again or hurt my kid and you'll have at least three rounds of wolfsbane and silver up your furry werewolf ass. Got it?”

“Yes, sir.” Derek said solemnly, nodding as he got to his feet and nudged Stiles' leg with his foot. “We'll see you tonight.”

Stiles mumbled goodbye to his dad as he followed Derek out of office. They were quiet and Jordan wasn't there to heckle them, so they didn't speak until they were in Stiles' Jeep.

“Diet be damned, Stiles. Let your dad eat whatever he wants tonight.” Derek said once he had shut the door.

“You think that'll make him okay with this?” Stiles asked as he started his baby.

“I have no idea. But I don't want you freaking out and busting your ass in the kitchen when you're like this. You're panicked and spacey and that just spells disaster.”

Stiles flashed a smile toward Derek before backing out of the parking lot. “Thanks, but I'll be fine. Cooking will give me something to concentrate on. I'll be fine.”

Well, he'd be fine once his dad got home and could talk to them.

**~ ~ ~**

Stiles had Derek set the table while he got the ribs off the grill. It had taken three hours for him to make the green bean and bacon casserole, homemade mashed potatoes, ribs and brownies. Was he going a little bit overboard? Maybe. Was he trying to butter his dad up? Absolutely. Speaking of butter...

“I should've made rolls. That would've been perfect. Damnit.”

“We don't need rolls, Stiles. Everything is already perfect. It's going to be fine.”

“Stop listening in when I'm talking to myself!”

“Talking to yourself is a sign of craziness. I'm just preventing you from being thrown into Eichen House again.”

“My hero.” Stiles snarked as he doused the fire on the grill.

Derek opened the door for him as he carried the heavy plate piled high with delicious ribs into the house. “Your dad's cruiser just turned onto the street.”

Stiles took long strides toward the kitchen table and set down the hot plate. “Is _he_ talking to himself?”

Derek shook his head. “Nope. He's fine. Normal heart rate, breathing pattern...should I be worried that he's checking the safety on his gun?”

The teen cracked a smile and shrugged. “I don't know, but I'm not going to let him shoot you.”

“My hero.” Derek mimicked his mate's earlier comment, snagging an arm around Stiles' waist and pulling the younger male against him.

Stiles jumped as the door opened behind him just as Derek kissed him.

“Hey, none of that.”

Stiles squirmed and pushed at his mate until he stumbled back, throwing the older male a dirty look before turning to his dad.

“Hey, dad, sorry. Derek was trying to-”

“Spare me the details, son.” The sheriff gave Derek a look. “We're going to have dinner and then we'll talk.”

Derek nodded and followed the Stilinski's into the kitchen, sitting across from Stiles at the table. He put his foot on his mate's to stop the teen from jiggling his knee and passed the ribs to the sheriff, letting him get first pick.

“I've always wondered what it'd be like to have a family dinner with a date. It's very comforting to know its just as awkward as the movies make it.” Stiles yammered, spooning a huge helping of mashed potatoes onto his plate.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” his dad replied, handing the ribs to Derek. “Dinner was never awkward with Malia.”

An uncomfortable pause passed between them before Stiles belatedly hissed, “ _Dad_.”

“This isn't awkward, Stiles. You're reading too much into the situation. Just shut up and eat.” His dad said before turning to Derek, “Can you pass the butter?”

Derek wordlessly handed over the container, but kept his eyes on Stiles, who had fallen silent and was playing with his mashed potatoes with his fork.

“Ribs, Stiles?”

“Uh, yeah, thanks, Der.”

Derek smiled at his mate, “You're welcome, Pop-Tart.”

The sheriff snorted as he put a generous pat of butter on his helping of potatoes. “Pop-Tart?”

Stiles' lips twitched into a half-smile. “He hasn't really explained it to me, yet.” He shrugged and shoveled an appalling amount of potatoes into his mouth and swallowed quickly to add, “But it's better than any other non-Stiles-approved nickname.”

“Such as?” Derek inquired, raising an eyebrow.

“The usual... spaz, nerd, dork, geek, testicle 1, tweedle-dee, Biles Bilinski and so on.”

“And 'Stiles' is the only approved nickname?”

“Well, actually, when I turned 16 dad let me change my name, so my _real_ first name is now my middle name and my legal first name is Stiles. So, approved nicknames would be Batman...and Pop-Tart.”

The sheriff groaned and pointed a fork at his son. “Stop it right there, no romance at the dinner table.”

“How about _on_ the dinner table?”

“Stiles!”

Stiles shared a smile with his mate at his father's expense. Maybe the evening wouldn't be a total loss.

**~ ~ ~**

“So, basically, we won't go into a coma or get sick anymore, since we've solidified the bond. We can spend stretches of time apart, not that I want to be away from him all that much, but now neither of us will die if we're not together. Which is great because that'd be tricky when I go to college, but kinda nice since, y'know, neither of us are gonna die just cause we're not together.” Stiles took a deep breath, digging his fingertips into his thighs. “But this is it. We're mates and there's no going back. We're...bonded. Derek is it for me, dad.”

“And Stiles is the only one I'm interested in, sir. This is consensual, monogamous and permanent.”

The sheriff was quiet up until Derek had spoken. “Consensual? You do realize he is underage and you engaged in sex with my son. My _seventeen year old_ son. That qualifies for statutory rape, Hale.”

“Dad!” Stiles croaked, his fingers digging deeper into his thighs. “I was consenting. I may not be of age, but what we did was not rape. He didn't rape me, dad. I wanted it. Hell, I nee-”

His dad stood up suddenly, bearing over his only child and pointing a finger at him. “It was do-or-die, Stiles. Anyone with a brain would rather agree to mating than die. That doesn't mean you really wanted it.”

Stiles swallowed thickly, trying to blink away the tears gathering in his eyes. He usually wasn't the type to cry, but being a disappointment to his father always made him tear up.

“Dad, if it had been Jackson or Matt Daehler or even Scott, I wouldn't have consented. Because that's what I did, dad. We gave each other a week to think about it and I did. I didn't have to weigh the pros and cons, or look at the situation clinically, from all the angles. I knew what I wanted pretty quickly because I've always had a crush on Derek, dad.”

His dad snorted scathingly. “You've always crushed on pretty people, Stiles. Lydia, Heather, Malia...it doesn't surprise me you'd 'crush' on Derek.”

Stiles stood up, facing his dad and staring until their eyes met. “Don't compare him to them, dad. He's on a different level. What I feel for Derek started as a crush, but its more than that now. Lydia Martin could walk through that door right now and ask me to marry her and I wouldn't do it. Tifa could bust through the fucking roof and ask me to run away with her and I wouldn't. Princess Leia could offer me to be heralded as a Jedi knight and I wouldn't budge. Buffy co-”

“Please stop comparing me to big-busted, bad ass women from fiction. You're bruising my ego.” Derek whispered lightly, trying to diffuse the tension radiating from the two Stilinski men.

“Well, let's be honest, your good looks _are_ a little fictional. And Jacob Black had nothing on you and you're hotter than my grossly embellished imaginings of what Fenrir Greyback looks like.”

“You're getting off topic.” Derek said, glancing at the Stilinski patriarch before pulling Stiles onto the couch cushion next to him.

“Right,” Stiles stared up at his dad, his jaw tight and his eyes hard. “Dad, you can try to keep us apart. You can ground me from now til college, but I will sneak out, I will lie to meet up with Derek and as soon as I graduate I will be out of this house and live in my Jeep if that's what it takes. But the fact is, Derek and I will be together. And I really, really want you to be okay with that.”

The sheriff sighed. “Stiles, you've just sprung this on me, kiddo. I'm happy you're alive and if that means that Hale is your...boyfriend, then fine. But I'm never going to stop parenting you. You're my son, my only kid. And hell knows your mother would come back and haunt me if I ever turned my back on you.” He held his arms out and Stiles flung himself into his dad's embrace, knocking the man off balance and over the arm of his armchair.

“Thank you, dad. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He pressed a kiss to his son's head and squeezed him tighter. “But why would you be living in the Jeep after graduation? Why not move in with Ha- Derek?”

Derek cleared his throat to get the Stilinski's attention. “We didn't want to discuss living arrangements until after we had finished talking to you, sir.”

“Yeah,” Stiles wiped at his eyes and pulled away from his dad, shooting Derek a wobbly smile. “We wanted to get your opinion before I started clearing out closet space for myself.”

His dad nodded. “I guess Friday and Saturday would be fine, if you wanted to spend the night, but school nights and Sunday you have to be home.” The sheriff caught Derek's eyes and smiled, “And you've got to come over for Sunday dinner from now on. No exceptions.”

“What if we've had mind-blowing sex and I can't get out of bed? Or Derek is shot and bleeding out?”

The sheriff stared at Stiles, unimpressed. “I don't want to hear anything about your sex life. And don't broadcast it, either. As an officer of the law my hands would be tied and I would have to drag Derek in and charge him with statutory rape. So try to keep it under wraps and casual, at least in public, alright?”

Stiles nodded wisely. “It'd be terrible to charge your future son-in-law with rape. I'm all for leather jackets, but felons aren't really my thing.”

“Aw, hell, Stiles.” His dad huffed in exasperation.

“I am technically a felon.”

“Charged, not convicted and your record was sealed, you're good.” Stiles cheered, falling onto Derek's lap. “Besides, it's kinda hot, the ex-felon dating the sheriff's son. If we were in a show, like Supernatural, everyone would be shipping us. The big bad alpha with the skinny, awkward human. Fangirls eat that shit up.”

“Wait, alpha?” The sheriff questioned, frowning at the young men sitting far too close together for his liking.

Derek smiled, his white teeth flashing as he whispered into Stiles' ear, “Lucy, you've got some 'splaining to do!”

Stiles groaned, hiding his face in his mate's neck to avoid his dad's steady gaze, waiting for an explanation. And it just figured the only TV show his mate could reference was one that had ended decades ago.

**~ ~ ~**

“Der, I'm back!” Stiles called as he entered the loft, lugged down with grocery bags filled with pop.

It took a few days for Stiles to get use to lowering his voice when he shouted. He was accustomed to shouting to his dad and he sometimes forgot how his voice carried. Now that he spent so much time at Derek's, he realized that the loft echoed and his shouting was amplified to his mate's sensitive ears, so he had worked on just casually calling out, like Derek was 20 feet away instead of upstairs in the bedroom.

“I'll be down in a few, Stiles.”

“Alright.” Stiles heaved the bags onto the counter and began to unload the bottles and stow them in the fridge. “I'm gonna need your help with the pop, though. It'll take me 50 trips if I do it myself.”

“I doubt that, unless you bought enough to give a third world country a caffeine addiction.”

Stiles smiled and chose not to reply, knowing that he'd never stop bantering if it went on any longer. His phone buzzed and the screen lit up next to his keys and wallet on the counter. He shut the fridge and awakened the screen, tapping on the notification and reading the text.

“Hey, how many pizzas did you order? The pizza guy isn't sure he got them all and Scott doesn't know how many we ordered.”

“14 and three boxes of cheesy bread and two bags of bread sticks.” Derek answered as he jogged downstairs.

“What about my cinnamon knots?” Stiles pouted.

Derek dipped his head and kissed the pout off his mate's lips. “You wanted those for yourself and everyone would sniff them out. We'll get them another day, okay?”

Stiles nodded, placated, as he tapped a reply to his best friend. “Lydia's bringing chips and Parrish is bringing beer, but said if you want a buzz, you're supplying your own wolfsbane because he isn't condoning drinking around minors.”

The werewolf shook his head. “We're not drinking tonight. We'll save the beer for another time. I don't want you hungover on your last day of summer vacation. Your dad would ground _me_.”

Stiles hummed and wrapped his arms around his mate. “Is the big bad alpha afraid of the sheriff?”

“He is when he's dating the sheriff's only child and said sheriff is armed with bullets that could kill me.”

Stiles wrinkled his nose and rubbed his thumb over the wrinkled skin between Derek's eyebrows, trying to smooth out the scowl. “Don't talk in third person. Weirds me out.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Talking in third person weirds you out, but you can debate game theories about Pokemon being reincarnated humans?”

The teen smiled and stepped away to grab his keys and head toward the door. “Yes. MatPat's theories are more solid than my abs.”

Derek followed his mate, not bothering to shut the door behind him, knowing they'd struggle with the heavy bags of pop without the added difficulty of opening the heavy door.

Stiles was still yammering on about one of his favorite YouTube channels, knowing full well Derek was only half listening. He knew his mate didn't really care about MatPat's theories or Dan and Phil's bromance that reminded him of his relationship with Scott, or the most epic rap battles of history. He had shown Derek a few of his favorite videos from each channel, which Derek regarded as 'pointless and a waste of time', but Stiles let it slide, for now. His mate had no idea that Stiles had gone through a phase where he and Scott made their own music videos to songs they'd made up. He's sure Melissa still has the videos somewhere.

With Derek's help they only make one trip together, which Stiles appreciates because he's going to have hell with lacrosse practice. He had no idea he'd gone this soft over summer break, but he knows Finstock will whip him into shape just in time for another season on the bench. Seriously, while the rest of the team nursed broken fingers, sprained ankles, concussions and all kinds of cuts and bruises, Stiles was nursing bench sores.

“You're thinking too hard.” Derek's voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Huh? No, I'm not.” Stiles waved off his mate, trying to shove another liter where it couldn't possibly fit.

“Stiles, you got really quiet and you only do that when you're thinking too hard. Otherwise you'd be rambling your thoughts out loud.”

“I don't do that!”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Yes, you do.” He took the bottle from the teen and set it in the door of the fridge and shut it. “Are you worried about tonight?”

Stiles shook his head. “No. Everyone pretty much knows, we're just laying it all out there.”

“Are you nervous about senior year?”

“No way, senior year is a breeze. Just have to pass government and British Lit. Everything else is just for the credits.”

Derek gestured toward the pile of envelopes in differing sizes on the coffee table. “Is it the college letters? Having trouble deciding?”

Stiles blushed and shook his head. “No, I, uh...I've already decided.”

When Derek didn't respond, Stiles took it as his cue, knowing the older male wouldn't press him for information this time. “I've decided to go to Northern California University.” He fiddled with his phone a bit before continuing, “They've given me a partial scholarship and I applied for a couple grants, so I won't have to take out too many loans. I'm going to study child psychology and criminal justice.”

“That's great, Stiles.” Derek pulled him into a tight hug. “Congratulations.”

Stiles smiled widely and returned the hug, relishing the warm, protective embrace. “Thanks. I already told dad and was going to tell you after the party. I get to apply for classes in November.”

“November? Isn't that a little early?” Derek frowned and stepped back a bit, lowering his hands to rest on Stiles' waist. “I thought they didn't have registration for fall semester until June or something?”

Stiles nodded. “Yeah, they don't, but I'm going to do two online classes once spring semester starts up at the beginning of February. I'm just taking a few slacker classes second semester for high school, like pottery and astronomy because I'm at the maximum credits. So instead of getting out of school early and blowing time, I'm getting a head start on a couple of my GenEds.”

“Smart.” Derek bent his head to kiss his mate, which would've escalated to something more heated, but they were interrupted by someone knocking on the door.

Stiles pecked a last kiss to his mate's lips before darting to open the door for his best friend, who was loaded down with an armload of pizza boxes.

“Hey, guys. There are more in the car, but I didn't want to risk dropping them.”

“Hey, Scott, thanks. I'll go grab them.” Derek replied, walking past the two teens to grab the rest of the food from Scott's mother's car.

Stiles helped his friend carry the pizza into the kitchen and began stacking the ones they had doubles of.

“I'm glad you guys sorted everything out. I hated seeing you like that, Stiles. I thought you were going to die.”

Stiles smiled sheepishly at the werewolf and threw an arm across his shoulders. “Scott, I never would've left you to fend for yourself senior year.”

Scott shook his head. “I know, but still. You're my brother, Stiles. I didn't want to say anything when I was distracting you because I didn't want to ruin whatever Derek was planning, but you really worried me. I thought I was going to have to bite you even after Derek showed up.”

Stiles held up a hand. “Wait, back track. When did you distract me for Derek?”

“Whenever I needed 'help with research'?” Scott lifted his fingers into air quotes. “I knew you were going to be fine and, y'know.” His friend blushed and glanced away to focus on the door to the loft. “I knew Derek was going to complete the bond or whatever. But I didn't like seeing you like that. I was helpless and I couldn't fix it. It drove me crazy. And I had to keep comforting your dad and Deaton was driving me crazy...”

Stiles smacked his friend's arm. “Hey, don't worry about it, Scotty. I'm fine now, we're both fine, you're good and it's great.” He glanced over to the door as his mate entered. “But I can't believe that you were making me do research as a distraction so Derek could-”

“I don't want to know!”

Derek gave them both a look as he set the boxes down. “Stiles listened to you yammer about your sexcapades, Scott. Least you can do is return the favor.”

Scott gave the older male a sour look. “Are you gonna team up against me now? Fight each others battles?”

“Verbal ones, yes. I leave the physical force to Derek, unless he needs back up.” Stiles replied, smiling at his mate.

Derek returned the smile and walked over to his boyfriend, caging him with his arms against the counter. “And what kind of backup would I need?”

Stiles winked, “A fail-proof escape route and a human armed with bat and a decent swing.”

Derek lowered his head until their foreheads were resting together and asked, “Know where I can find a human who can do that?”

“Mhm. Pretty sure its the same human that you're bonded to, isn't that convenient? Or don't you know him? I've heard he's pretty smart and great in bed.”

“Oh my God. Please stop.” Scott begged from the living room. “I can _smell_ your hormones from here!”

“Stuff some tampons up your nose then, Scotty, cause so long as Derek's around, I'm always going to smell like this.”

Derek smiled, his lips brushing against Stiles' as he asked, “So you're going to smell like this forever?”

“Pretty much. Got a problem with that?”

“Not at all. Actually, I'm looking forward to it.”

“Good.”

Stiles moaned as Derek kissed him, quickly opening his mouth and eagerly battling Derek's tongue for dominance, ignoring Scott's muffled whining in the background. He had no idea what supernatural absurdities would attack them this year. He had no clue if college would be at all what he expected. He didn't know if his friends would grow apart and leave him in the dust (though he wouldn't let that happen without a fight). But he knew that no matter what happened, Derek wouldn't be leaving his side. They were done running from each other. From now on, they'd be running together, side by side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there we go. If you'd like to hear the songs this fic was inspired by, you can copy and paste this link to your browser and find all the songs on my Pinterest. https://www.pinterest.com/kendraphill/til-we-aint-strangers-anymore-playlist/
> 
> Another reason I took forever to upload this chapter is because I had another fic idea that wouldn't leave me alone, so I wrote out the summary (which ended up being 12 pages long on college ruled paper, became an entire outline for the story, established a timeline and then began researching it. However, almost all the research is done and I will begin writing it soon and then I'll be posting it here. So if you liked my writing style and would be interested in reading more of my work, keep an eye out. I'm going to do a non-cliche (that'll probably still have some cliches) Sterek fic where werewolves are known, Stiles being a spark means a hell of a lot more than Jeff Davis ever bothered to flesh out, includes alpha Derek, broke college student Stiles, pregnancy and a happy ending. Throw in some drama, coming to terms with each other, angst, lots of medical terms and way too many grocery store encounters and smut and you've got my next story!
> 
> Thank you all for sticking around through the end and sharing your feedback with me. It's actually encouraged me to go back to school to finish earning my English degree. You're all rock stars and I appreciate you very much!


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